


Rebirth of the Founders

by DaSalvatore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi, Reincarnated Hogwarts Founders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 118,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaSalvatore/pseuds/DaSalvatore
Summary: The Founders found a way of putting powerful safeguards into their bloodlines. Now, as Harry faces off against the shade of Tom Riddle and the basilisk inside the Chamber of Secrets, the Sorting Hat causes one of those safeguards to activate. The result means Harry Potter is now Salazar Slytherin and the most misunderstood Founder is the Boy-Who-Lived.





	1. A Snake Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go quite as planned deep in the Chamber and the sword Harry uses belonged to a different Founder. Harry has Lily's eyes for a reason, they're the eyes of the greatest snake in history and now his descendant gains Salazar's memories and powers.

**AN: This story involves the Founders’ minds, personalities, and magic merging with canon characters. While it is a true merging where the original mind and personality remains, there is no question that the addition of 50+ decades of another life will affect the characters. As such, if Harry is referenced as Salazar then it simply means he is using/relying on the Salazar experiences more than his own.**

 

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

 

A Snake Reborn

 

_Chamber of Secrets, 1993_

 

Harry Potter was only twelve. Harry Potter had only known about the Wizarding World and that he was a wizard since his eleventh birthday despite being born to two extremely powerful parents. Not that Harry was aware of that fact. No one had sat him down to teach him anything about his parents, his family, nor his place in the new world he had been thrust into. In every practical sense, Harry Potter was worse than a Muggle-born considering he had not been told about introductory books for true Muggle-borns.

Which was why Harry Potter was mentally cursing up a storm over having to face his parents’ murderer for the second year in a row. A murderer who just so happened to be the most feared Dark Lord in recent memory.

“You see?” The shade of a teenage Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, whispered. “It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course…”

“You had friends?” Harry immediately snarked. There was a harshness to the retort that his friends and professors would have been shocked to hear, and the shade did its best to ignore him.

“…You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father’s name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side?”

Something powerful within Harry reacted to teenage-Voldemort’s words. He had felt a stirring since he first heard the confused mumblings of the basilisk all those months ago, an awakening of the ‘dark’ _Slytherin_ part of his personality the Sorting Hat had delighted in seeing. It was the part that had kept him alive at the Dursleys, that rebelled against his public displays of laziness, that cheered at secretly working on his knowledge with the Hogwarts librarian, Madam Pince. It was also the part of Harry that wanted to hex the gormless, jealous prat that was Ronald Weasley into the next decade and beyond.

“No, Harry,” the shade continued, completely unaware that Harry had zoned out on part of this year’s Epic Evil Monologue. “I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world!”

“A name that’s an anagram of your Muggle one?” Harry quipped back, doing his absolute damnedest to not start shouting ‘Phenomenal Cosmic Power…in an itty-bitty-living-space’ at the shade. “Besides, you’re not.”

Not, what?” Riddle snarled in confusion and rage at not being taken seriously by the boy who had destroyed his elder self.

“Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” Harry explained slowly, as though speaking to a very small child. Or Hagrid. “Apparently even when you were at your peak, you still wouldn’t dare attack Hogwarts because of Albus Dumbledore. After all, he knew who and what you were when you were a student here.”

“Dumbledore has been driven out of the castle by the mere memory of me!” The shade hissed.

“Well, maybe,” Harry shrugged, as though it was inconsequential. “But I think it’s more Malfoy’s money that did it. And she’s still standing so it doesn’t matter. And besides, I killed your arse when I was one! I head-butted your Killing Curse and messed my diaper so bad it caused your body and most of my room to explode.”

And that was the other strange thing about the past year. Aside from the petrifications by a rampaging basilisk, a diary that was able to think for itself, show memories to people writing in it, and apparently trying to gain a life of its own. Harry had been remembering the night his parents died in horrifying detail. After two months of the same nightmare every night, he came to a sudden realisation about his mother. Lily Potter had been acting the entire time. She knew she was going to die and every word, every act, was following some type of script. It didn’t take Harry long to realise it must have been some type of protection ritual she was following.

Harry now held the memory of her last moments close to his heart as the ultimate expression of what real love meant.

He was brought out of his heavy thoughts by the sound of powerful music filling the Chamber. _This place is getting to me_ , he thought as he looked up to see a majestic bird soaring in its full glory. The heavy gloom of the Chamber only adding to the beauty of the phoenix’s flight. As Fawkes’ song ended, the bird took a dive reminiscent of Harry on his Nimbus and dropped a raggedy bundle at the Gryffindor’s feet and landed on his shoulder with grace and poise.

“That’s a phoenix,” Riddle blurted out with narrow eyes.

“Who’s a clever shade,” Harry instantly quipped, wondering why he was letting his snark out as much as he was. “Little Tom deserves a sweet.”

Riddle snarled in fury, looking and sounding very much like one of Marge’s dogs while Fawkes softly trilled with laughter. Harry was sure he caught the sound of the Hat snickering.

“Tell me!” The Shade roared, all pretence at being in control lost in its anger. “Tell me how it is that twice, your past and my future, that I failed to kill you! Tell me everything and you’ll live longer!”

Something about the rant had Harry’s eyes narrowing as suspicion crept into his thoughts. Fawkes twilled softly as though guiding and encouraging them, and he looked between Riddle’s solidifying shade and the diary lying beside the unconscious Ginny Weasley.

“How does the diary work, o’ grand sorcerer?” He asked in return, the mocking tone only infuriating Riddle more. “Your other self is still floating around as some butt-ugly mist, so you aren’t a ghost. What are you? A memory interlaced with heavy compulsion charms?”

“Nothing so plebeian!” Riddle snapped, his top lip curling more than an Elvis impersonator’s. It was as though Harry had suggested he used his wand as a combination back-scratcher and nose picker. “I have delved deep into the Darkest of Arts and have become immortal. That diary is one of my greatest creations. A soul container. A Horcrux.”

“You…” Harry looked at Riddle in pure horror and the shade laughed, misunderstanding his reaction.

Harry had read a theory of how a person’s soul and magic were deeply connected, clearly explaining how magical ghosts were possible, and couldn’t understand why someone would willingly mess with something that was a key part of their existence. While the Horcrux term might be unknown, Riddle’s attitude allowed Harry to guess at what the diary was. He was stunned that someone as talented as Riddle appeared to have been somehow messed with his soul as a way of avoiding there. His entire first-year adventure had been because Dumbledore brought in an object that was supposed to do exactly that and didn’t mess with a person’s soul doing so..

Riddle’s shade preened like a peacock while Fawkes’ low trill was almost a chuckle at what was to come.

“So, I’m guessing you didn’t think just one of those things,” Harry said, pointing at the diary and hiding his revulsion at a man so dangerous his named stilled caused the adults around Harry to shudder having multiple ways to return from the dead. “Would be enough for the ‘Great and Powerful Lord Voldemort.”

“Of course not!” Riddle laughed, his ego easily stroked by the Slytherin Gryffindor. Harry absently wondered if the powerful idiot caught his reference. “I did what no-one would ever dream. Six Horcruxes, seven pieces of soul. The most magical number to keep me immortal!”

“An immortally deranged, completely insane, and magically unstable idiot,” Harry added, and this time there was no mistaking the deep laughter of the Sorting Hat coming from their feet.  He half turned to Ginny as he continued before Riddle could react. “Well, that’s all I needed to know. Now I’ll collect the girl, destroy your book, and find someone capable of hunting down your other containers. Take care, Tom.”

The fury building up within the teenage Voldemort shattered at the idea of someone destroying his soul anchors. The shade turned to the giant carving of Salazar Slytherin and hissed.

~~ _”Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!”~~_ The Parseltongue echoed throughout the Chamber and Harry felt it react to the magic within the language.

The Boy-Who-Lived watched in awe and fear as the statue began to open, and deep down he knew what was happening and what exactly would be coming out of the dark, foreboding hole.

“Oh, Haaarrry,” the Hat called out. Fawkes launched himself off Harry’s shoulder as the boy pulled his gaze away from the basilisk’s lair to the sentient headwear. The Hat’s brim lifted to reveal something shiny. “Take what is yours by Magic, Blood, and Birth-right.”

The Boy-Who-Lived launched himself at the Hat, his Seeker reflexes scooping it up and he raced to hide behind one of the many columns in the grand Chamber. Harry could hear the basilisk moving behind him, hear Tom ordering the deadly snake to kill him, and a phoenix screeching as it attacked the ancient beast. He forced himself to ignore the cacophony of sound and pulled free the Hat’s gift.

The world seemed to pause as Harry looked at the superbly crafted sword he now held. The blade had a slight silvery tint and dramatically tapered into a point, reminding Harry of a rapier he had seen in one of the Little Whinging’s library books. His fingers were gripped comfortably around the snake-shaped hilt with the snake’s fangs gripping an emerald pommel stone. He could see squiggles carved into the guard that subtly shifted into letters and he gasped as he realised it was Parsel for Slytherin.

Harry was sharply brought out of his reverence for the sword, and the confusion as to why it seemed so damned _happy_ for him to be holding it when the Chamber shuddered from the basilisk’s roar of pain. He put the Hat on and carefully peeked around the column to see a now completely blind basilisk thrashing around the central chamber. While the sight of the mammoth snake saddened Harry, he grinned in delight as an enraged Riddle attempted to get the basilisk to under control. The soul shade was so angry he hadn’t noticed that he had slipped back into human speech.

“Bloody hell, Slinky,” Harry cursed when he finally took in the basilisk’s size. “You got big.”

“ _Indeed_ ,” the Hat agreed through its strange mind-speech as it carefully nudged the boy’s magic and potential to the surface while making sure Harry didn’t notice the changes. “ _That’s a blind, thousand-year-old basilisk, there’s an evil bastard trying to come back to life, you’re only twelve, and you have a pointy sword. So, what’s the plan?”_

“You know, Sebastian,” Harry sneered back, not realising he had used the Hat’s name nor that he was working through wrist exercises with the sword. “One day, you and I are going to have words about your attitude.”

“ _I came by it honestly from my snake-loving creator after the other three added in their say,_ ” Sebastian chuckled.

 “Magic resistant hide, he’s in a really bad mood, and I doubt I have enough power to kill him with a spell down the mouth,” Harry listed off, ignoring Sebastian’s comment through years of practice. His lips twisted into a smirk as Riddle stomped his feet over Fawkes keeping Slinky occupied. “There’s only one answer left, and I’ll never live this down if it gets out.”

 “ _Pointy sword, dangerous beast, CHARGE!_ ” Sebastian quoted a familiar complained about The Gryffindor of Gryffindors with a laugh.

 “Hermione is going to kill me for this,” Harry sighed, pain lancing his chest at the memory of his best friend in the infirmary.

 “ _She’ll understand._ ”

 “Says you,” Harry immediately scoffed. “There’s a reason why the castle has so many hidden passageways; it’s so the two of us could run when she got angry. That’s one dangerous woman.”

 Harry never gave Sebastian time to reply as he ran forward from his hiding spot, the sword angled low as he raced towards the giant beast. Its senses picked up on the movement and instinct took over on both sides. Slinky the Basilisk lunged forward just as Harry brought the sword up to meet the attack, and the blade sunk deep into the roof of the snake’s mouth.

 His arm erupted in agony as one of the poisonous fangs pierced it below the elbow. The deadliest venom in the known Wizarding World flooded Harry’s veins as the dead basilisk topped to the side. He stumbled in the other direction as the venom took hold and the fang snapped, allowing him to stagger away, covered in the animal’s blood.

 The sword grew too heavy to hold and Harry only kept hold of the weapon because his muscles were unable to relax enough to let it go. He took hold of the broken fang and wrenched it free of his arm with a snarl of defiance. He never felt the hard impact as he fell to his knees.

 “You’re dead, Harry Potter,” Riddle crowed in triumph. “Dead! And it won’t be long now before I completely drain little Weasley and retake my place…wait…what are you doing you stupid bird?!?”

 The phoenix in question had scooped up the cursed diary and dropped it in front of Harry. Neither boy took notice as it reclaimed the Sebastian the Sorting Hat and gently dropped it on Ginny’s head.

 “It’s given me a way of stopping you, Tommy boy,” Harry smirked, the look having been feared by many almost a thousand years prior. He never gave the shade a chance to reply before driving the fang’s tip deep into the diary’s heart.

 A terrible scream seemed to come from both the diary and the shade. Ink spewed from the book, its life-force draining away, while Riddle’s spectral body contorted and twisted until he was somehow wrenched into nothingness.

 The silence was heavy with Sebastian, Fawkes, and the very Chamber of Secrets itself waiting for what was coming next. The basilisk venom finally connected to Harry’s magical core and the legacy that had been hidden within the blood of Lily Evans. His body stiffened, and he opened his mouth in a silent scream as ancient magics burst free. The safety feature of Salazar’s bloodline kicked in, unlocked by the venom, and Harry’s mind and magic were torn apart and rebuilt as the essence of Salazar Slytherin was reborn within the body of Harry James Potter.

The lightning bolt scar, as famous as the boy whose forehead it sat on, opened to spew forth black puss that merged with the basilisk blood. It wouldn’t be until the next day that anyone noticed how faded the mark became.

“You’re an absolute bastard, Sebastian,” Harry croaked as he collapsed onto his side, fighting for every breath as the pain dropped to a more tolerable level. Which for both Salazar and Harry meant most people would have been unconscious. The memories of Salazar clashed with those of Harry with the merged result realising just how similar their childhoods had been.

“You know I couldn’t do anything. It was the only way to properly Awaken you,” Sebastian retorted without any sense of regret. “The moment I was placed on young Harry’s head, I knew you were in there with him. You’re the only one I know who could survive the childhood the two of you had while still being a good person.”

Sal scoffed at the sentiment and ignored Fawkes trilling in agreement. Salazar’s physically brutal childhood at the hands of his _loving_ father meant that he became a Dark wizard fighting for the side of good, and no good didn’t get a say in the matter. Salazar was only surprised that Harry hadn’t already made a similar choice.

“You know,” the most feared of the Founders said in a tone that declared the subject was being changed. There was no part of his body that didn’t hurt as he pulled himself to his feet and ripped off his damaged robe, using it to clean his beloved sword of basilisk fluids. The pain continued to spike as his body overcharged with magic from the merger, but he pushed the agony away through mental discipline. “Owning something imbued with my magic while being injected with basilisk venom seemed like the ideal way of combining myself with one of my heirs. At the time.”

“And now?” Sebastian chortled as though already knowing the answer.

“Now I understand why Ro’ gave me such a disappointed look when I suggested it,” Harry said, wistful at the memory. He dropped the ruined robe once the blade was clean and held out his left hand, mentally calling his basilisk-hide scabbard from its hiding place. Muscle memory had him sliding the blade home and tying the belt around his waist even as he glared at the Hat. His famous green eyes glowed more brightly and with greater clarity than anyone in his current lifetime had ever seen. “I know who my brother and Helga are. Tell me Ro’ is here as well.”

The scabbard automatically shrunk to fit Harry’s smaller body, the inverse space-enlargement enchantment making sure the blade was unharmed by the size-changing magic. He didn’t notice a thing as he waited for Sebastian’s answer, the Avada glare growing more dangerous the longer the enchanted object took to give it.

“She’s here, Sal,” it finally sighed. “But she, like the three of you, has had a similar life as her old one.”

“The fury that passed over Harry’s face was only matched by the explosion of his magic that caused the Chamber to shudder. The man in a boy’s body quickly closed his eyes to bring up his old Occlumency mindscape and shields to regain control of his emotions. The mindscape and mental protections might not have fully survived the transition, but they were still strong enough to give him control over himself as well as withstand a wandless attack.

“Then I will Awaken my sissster first,” he declared with a harsh hiss once his rage slithered back into its dark home deep within his soul. “I can’t risk it for Rick or Helga first, not with the way their lives are away from here.”

Sebastian declined to reply as both he and Fawkes waited for the next Sal explosion. It wasn’t long in coming.

“So,” Salazar said in a faux sweet tone. “Want to tell me what in Magic’s s name has happened to my _House_? Half those nitwits wouldn’t even be tutored by our educators, let along become one of our apprentices. I haven’t seen a true Slytherin since I came back.”

The Sorting Hat cringed at the rant. He knew he had done his best with what he had, but it was still a far cry from the Founders’ dream.

“It only took a hundred years after you all died that it was decided to do away with Hogwarts’ House,” Sebastian explained, not surprised by Harry’s snarl. The House system had been designed for everyone to be in one, unnamed House split only by magical power/education. The other four Houses were then for those who exemplified what each Founder believed in and was given personal tutoring. Now the little bastards were being put into Houses that they didn’t really deserve. “It took a Coven of three-and-seven to weaken the blood protections you put on me, Sal. And then only to the point a Headmaster or the child in question could attempt to nudge me in a Sorting’s direction.

“And you _know_ what your name has become because of Salestine,” Sebastian pushed on even though it could feel Harry’s pain at what had happened. Fawkes’ soft warbling looked to help them through the difficult conversation. “Between the current Headmaster using the Peverell Elder Stick on me and that jumped-up bastard Riddle proclaiming himself your heir, your House has become a travesty of the man I consider my friend.”

Harry sighed, his heart clenching at the agony in Sebastian’s voice. He finally asked the question he had been avoiding since he Awakened. “Is he really one of mine?”

“That snot-stain is a bastard son of Merope Gaunt. The Gaunts married one of Salestine’s many, many brood,” the Hat snarled in a perfect imitation of Harry. Salestine had been Salazar’s third child and second son, born without the tell-tale Slytherin green eyes and so barred from accessing the family magic that had come from Salazar. The boy had taken the news he wouldn’t become Lord Slytherin badly and became the Dark Lord history declared Salazar to be. He was also the eventual reason for Salazar’s death from an agonising curse after Sal had killed the little shit. “Lily Evans is your direct line as are the Potters through your great-granddaughter marrying Antioch I’s grandson. You’re also part of Ro’s family through the Blacks with Dorea Black being Harry’s paternal grandmother. It’s why the Headmaster’s blood wards are so bloody useless! Petunia doesn’t have the Slytherin magic, so they don’t consider her a true member of the family.”

Salazar couldn’t help but chuckle at Sebastian’s rant. All the Founders had been infamous with their students for going on long ramblings that simultaneously tore apart arguments and educated those able to handle such sharp tongues. The quick moment of levity passed as his intelligent mind processed the information.

“Speaking of the old goat,” he said, his eyes narrowing at someone not of Peverell blood possessing the dangerous wand. “What the hell is going on with his redemption project of my Head of House?”

“A blind spot, Sal,” Sebastian sighed. “Snape thought himself in love with Lily, was part of the reason why the Potters were targeted by Riddle, and how you ended up under the blood wards. The Headmaster believes he’s sorry for what he’s done in the past and not merely in agony over losing the woman who was never his.”

“The more I hear, the more I was to retake Cassie immediately and kick everyone’s arse,” Harry shook his head in frustration and began to pace as his lightning-fast thoughts created and abandoned plans with almost every step. “Forget all this personal drama, tell me what I need to know.”

“You know about my situation already,” Sebastian groused.  “The Headmaster has grown lax with keeping the school protected and the wards are a total mess. There’s a ward designed to destroy anything electrical coming into Cassie’s and it’s so overpowered it’s been known to cause Muggle-borns headaches. The Dark Artefact ward is barely there, hence that now dead deadly diary able to get in, and a whole lot of the other protections simply aren’t active. It’s a balls up of epic proportions, Sal.”

“Well the ward keeping overly aggressive action from happening in the halls must be down,” Harry absently noted as he swivelled on the spot to walk back the way he came only to suddenly freeze as a horrifying thought chilled his blood. “Tell me at least the physical assault wards are active.”

The silence spoke volumes and Sal felt bile climbing up the back of his throat. And then he remembered what Sebastian had said about his sister’s new life. “Ro’?”

“It’s only been girls and they haven’t gone _that_ far.”

The ‘yet’ went unsaid and Harry’s control shattered once more, sending another wave of magic erupting from his still merging cores. The magic was a living wave of fury, rippling out from the too small body that contained it, and caused Chamber’s stagnated water to leap into the air in millions of individual drops. They hung there for a heartbeat and then evaporated as oxygen and hydrogen atoms were forcefully separated by Salazar’s raw power. The resulting shockwave impacted the Chamber walls, cracking the solid stone into thousands of spider-webbed fragments, and Harry crumpled to his knees as his body simultaneously overloaded itself with and emptied itself of magic.

Sebastian shuddered in fear at the terrible act. Salazar Slytherin’s power was almost unmatched when he was in his prime and it was now within a body that had only gone through one magical maturity. Harry Potter’s potential backed by the sheer force of will that was Salazar Slytherin would reshape the world and Sebastian only hoped the other three Founders still had their talent of reigning the dangerous man in. While Salazar wasn’t the Dark Lord history made him, he was most definitely the Dark Wizard it hinted at.

The proof of Sebastian’s fears was in the way the Chamber shuddered as the released magic sank into the hungry runes, awakening the Snake Lord’s home for the first time since he left Hogwarts. It would have taken a fully rested adult wizard half a day to safely do the same and a weak Slytherin had done so in a fit of anger.

The Chamber’s own small Heartstone awoke at the touch of its maker’s magic and began drawing from the seven ley lines beneath Hogwarts, pouring the potent magic into repairing and rebuilding the Chamber to its former glory as well as alerting the house-elves of the Chamber’s location so they could fix what it couldn’t.

It took a worrying number of minutes for Harry’s harsh coughing to settle and for him to stop spitting up blood. He knew his body and core needed time to recover from the mixing of basilisk venom and the Awakening, and the emotional explosions were pushing both to the point of collapse. It was a situation he was painfully familiar with.

“Right,” he gasped, forcing himself through the agony. “First thing is to get to the surface and have the Healer look me and Weasley over. Next, some bullshit information for the great Dumbledore, I recover, and then I hunt down Ro’ and free her from another nightmare.”

“I’ve been working on Miss Weasley’s mind as we’ve been talking, as well as keeping her asleep,” Sebastian informed one of his creators. “She’ll need a professional Mind-Healer, but I’ve done enough for her to realise this past year wasn’t her fault. I also tweaked her response to Harry Potter saving her so that instead of it feeding into her hero worship, it’s made her realise that it was her obsession with him that kept her writing in the diary.”

“Thank you, old friend,” Harry said, weakly pushing himself to his feet and then stumbling as the world spun.

“Be careful, Sal,” the Hat warned, knowing not to mention his friend’s physical weakness no matter how worried he was about it. Neither Harry nor Salazar allowed themselves to be weak and trying to point it out only alienated them. “Her family look at Harry’s fame and gold as a way out of their poverty and the answer to their dreams. Even the twins are capable of enjoying the pain of others.”

“Their pranks.”

“Indeed. And they have a piece of parchment made by Harry’s father and his friends. It’s tied into the identification wards, so they know almost every hidden place and where everyone is at any time.”

Harry blinked as he held his burning side. It felt as though the core release and coughing fit had caused a rib to crack. Thankfully it was an injury they were well used to working around. “What name would I show up as?”

“Exactly. You know Cassie, she’ll be over the moon to have Salazar back.”

Harry didn’t bother responding as he was too focused on shuffling over to the unconscious Ginny. His energy levels were dropping hard and he knew he’d be on the verge of a magical coma if he didn’t get some aid soon.

“Once we get up top, I’ll need you to beg, bribe, bully, or promise anything the Little Girl wants,” he instructed Sebastian as he collapsed with a grunt beside the unconscious girl. “She only has to keep the wards saying Harry Potter until I’m able to get the map from them.”

“Will do, Sal. Now take a bloody breather while Sparky over there flashes up to the tunnel to pick up the dead weights.”

Harry weakly chuckled at Fawkes’ squawk of indignation. He closed his mind to help partition off the pain and weakness, fully aware that it would cost him more in the end. The world behind his eyelids burned a furious orange as the phoenix transported them to a frantic Ron Weasley.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

It had taken all of Harry’s fragile self-control not to skewer the red-headed bastard. He had taken Sebastian off Ginny’s head the moment the world stopped burning and the first year immediately woke up, falling into her brother’s arms once she opened her eyes. Sal had left them to it and dragged his exhausted carcass towards the pipe’s opening only for the male Weasley to demanding answers as to what happened and just _why_ was Harry wearing a sword-belt, with sword, that was covered in snakes. As though the Slytherin sword wasn’t worthy enough to save his sister’s life.

 _Bigoted little shit_ , Harry thought to himself, his perception of Ron’s attitude and actions over the past two years now coloured by Salazar’s maturity.

“The Sorting Hat thought it would be funny if I killed Slytherin’s Monster with Slytherin’s sword,” he snarked, sending the Hat in question into barking laughter that echoed in the tunnel. The tips of Ron’s ears turned red and Harry turned away from the two Weasleys to lead the way out.

Ron had been Harry’s first friend and he was still pretty sure he’d pick Weasley over the idiot Draco Malfoy if the choice came up again. The boys had rescued him from the Dursleys that past summer, had given him a chance to enjoy what it meant to be warm and have a full stomach before bed, and generally made him feel welcome at the Burrow. Harry’s shift in attitude came from not looking at the family in the illusionary perfect way he did before. They might not be the Dursleys, but the entire family had problems that soured Harry on them now Salazar’s decades of experience made them obvious.

Molly Weasley was too overbearing while Arthur seemed to go along with anything she said or wanted. The twins were a laugh but never knew when to stop with their jokes while Percy was a political toady in the making if Sal had ever seen one. Harry knew next to nothing about Ginny, but he knew more than enough when it came to Ron; blindly anti everything not Gryffindor, disinterested in learning even the basics of magical control, an inferiority complex about his place in life while also carrying a superiority complex over his skills. But it was the last two flaws that had Harry uncaring if their relationship fell apart. The boy was a subtle blood-bigot given a few of his comments over the past two years and he was intensely jealous of any attention Harry gained, willing to push Harry into situations he had no interest in as long as Ron got to tag along and fell important.

Harry shook his head free of the running thoughts. He had a path of his own that had to be forged and it would be too Slytherin for the boy holding his quietly sobbing sister to follow. Salazar hoped Ronald Weasley grew up and found his own way in life and forgot about measuring himself to others.

The deep introspective was broken when the quiet trio came across a totally blitzed-out Gilderoy Lockhart leaning against the stone wall and grinning like an idiot. Sal hadn’t seen anyone so peaceful with the world since one of his students somehow overpowered the hallucinogenic properties of some of the Forbidden Forest’s mushrooms.

 _That’s something else that needs fixing,_ he remembered. _I’m not having those nasty Acromantulas near my school._

“His memory’s gone, the Memory Charm backfired,” Ron grumbled after being given a questioning eyebrow raise.

Sal shook his head and ignored both idiots. He knew Lockhart was too out of it to move from the cave-in to the bottom of the slide on his own but didn’t care enough to find out what Ron was hiding. He glared at the slope and found himself too tired to face the stairs he now knew he could turn it into.

“Couldn’t lend us a feather, could you, Fawkes?” He politely asked the phoenix perched on his shoulder, tucking Sebastian into his belt. The phoenix consented, and the group were quickly soaring up the large opening to land with a thump on the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Harry was flat on his back gasping for breath, wondering if he had the strength to move when he suddenly tasted a drop of salty water. The essence of Fawkes worked through his body, healing the internal injuries to leave only the exhaustion and core damage.

“Thanks, old friend,” he whispered as he rolled to his knees. The crimson bird bobbed its head in return while the two Weasleys were too focused on themselves to hear.

Harry pulled up the memory-wiped Lockhart to his feet and led the idiot as the three students followed the slowly floating phoenix down the corridors. Sal absently put Sebastian on his head only to wince when his mind was filled with a shout.

“ _MORGANA’S OVERFLOWING CHAMBER POT! Your core is ready to implode!”_

An elf immediately popped in front of Harry to stop him taking another step. He blinked stupidly at the little being as it glared up at him with a look of pure stubbornness on its face. Harry idly wondered if it had been taking lessons from Helga while the two Weasleys stared in confusion. Sal ultimately gave a mental shrug and took the vial the elf was holding out, downing the Core Replenishing Potion that would keep him from falling into a potentially lethal magical coma.

The elf took the vial back, gave one last glare that promised pain if he didn’t start taking care of himself, and popped back to wherever it had come from. Sal easily ignored Sebastian’s mental laughter at the scene and picked up the pace so that he could get himself a good sleep and some food as quickly as possible.

The eclectic group found themselves in McGonagall’s office where a frantic Molly Weasley pulled all three children into far too tight hugs. She was saved from evisceration only by Harry’s exhaustion. Once he gained his freedom from the iron-armed woman, Sal carefully put Sebastian and Riddle’s diary on the desk while Fawkes drifted to the shoulder of the white-bearded man sitting behind it. Harry met the blue gaze with a steady green one of his own.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” he said in the most ‘Harry’ voice he could manage given the circumstances. “I got to admit that these end of year adventures aren’t as fun as people might imagine.”

Those who didn’t know Sal’s sense of humour looked at the raven-haired boy as though he had grown a second head. The comment had even caught Lockhart’s attention until it was captured by an interesting pattern in McGonagall’s rug. It was only Sal’s iron will that kept his body from shivering at Hogwarts’ excitement at one of her fathers being back and prayed to the old gods that Dumbledore didn’t notice the castle’s shift in magic.

Slowly, the way a twelve-year-old would, he spun the tale of the entire year. Hearing Slinky’s voice – though never actually using the dead basilisk’s name – and how it was Hermione who eventually realised what it was he heard moving through the pipes. He told the adults of how he and Ron had gone into the Acromantula colony to learn of Myrtle’s death, playing up Ron’s heroics in facing his arachnophobia for all its worth in the hopes it helped the boy feel better about himself, and finally to how they worked out the entrance had to be in the very same bathroom Myrtle now haunted.

Mr and Mrs Weasley sat agog throughout the tale while Dumbledore and McGonagall kept their reactions hidden, the former succeeding far more than the latter. It was the disappointing Head of Gryffindor who spoke up once Harry finished his twist of truth and tale.

“How on Earth did you survive facing off against a basilisk, Potter?”

Harry tasted blood from how hard he bit his cheek to keep from showing his annoyance at the woman. McGonagall’s impersonal stance towards her own students was one of the reasons why Gryffindor House wasn’t what it could be. An elf popped in to pass Sal a glass of cool water laced with a healing potion to soothe his raw throat and the teachers blinked in surprise at the unique act.

“It seems that Riddle wrote in that diary there,” he threw out his chin towards the object in question. “He somehow made it so that whoever wrote back would slowly become entrapped.”

“Brilliant,” Dumbledore softly said. Sal frowned at the intense appreciation he heard in the single word and suspiciously eyed the Headmaster as the old man picked up the object in question. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts had ever seen.”

 _Hogwash._ Harry mentally snapped. He could name over twenty students from his time as Salazar and the present who had the potential to equal or better his descendent if they had a mind to. The shade in the Chamber had been daring and egotistical in his powers, going places others had the sanity not to tread, but Sal had heard nothing of Tom Riddle to suggest he was as talented as Dumbledore made out. And Harry should know; after all, it was Salazar’s ability to know the full potential of another magical that he imbued within the Sorting Hat.

“Very few people know that Tom Riddle went on to become Lord Voldemort,” the fool continued, speaking mostly to the Weasleys who naturally gave him the looks of wide-eyed wonder he was after. “I taught him myself, fifty years ago. He disappeared after leaving the school…went far and wide no doubt…sank so very deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind and underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognisable as…”

 _Bullshit!_ Sal argued, he Occlumency shields straining to hide his reaction to what was being spewed forth. Salazar _knew_ the Dark Arts. _He_ had delved into, dissected, and understood more about the branch of magic the modern world shunned than anyone except his bloodline’s originator. He couldn’t see how a fully formed ‘Voldemort’ could have captured the loyalty and following of so many Pure-bloods as the accounts claimed.

 _No. he probably went through some core, stamina, and body strengthening rituals prior to coming back into society as well as something to add speed and dexterity but not anything else._ Sal’s academic mind running off on a tangent at what he would suggest someone do if they wanted to become Voldemort. _Something must have scared Riddle to give up his physical humanity and become more in tune with his Parsel Magic. A new player on the board, perhaps? One who faded away when my parents bested the bastard?_

“Miss Weasley should go to the Hospital Wing right away,” Dumbledore’s voice cut through Harry’s musings and he realised that he had once again drifted away from the conversation. “Madam Pomfrey is just giving out Mandrake juice as we speak.”

A tension Harry didn’t know he carried slipped away at the news and he sighed in relief. Whether she was Helga or Hermione, he never felt right without the woman of his heart by his side.

McGonagall led the frantic Weasleys sans Ron out of her office and Harry leant back in his chair with a soft sigh, his eyes closing as he worked on his Occlumency. Dumbledore had just admitted that he saw the signs of one of his students turning evil and yet, as far as Sal knew, he had done nothing to stop Riddle from becoming the monster who would ultimately attack the Potters. That Salazar had faced the same situation with his own son and went on to kill Salestine only made Dumbledore’s failure that much harder for the Snake Lord to accept.

“I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more rules,” the man in question reminded them. “Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words. You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor.”

Ron went bright pink with embarrassment at the praise while Harry could only internally wince at Godric’s joy at him being the cause of Gryffindor winning the House Cup two years in a row.

“What about your part in this, Gilderoy?”

“Professor Dumbledore, sir, there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets,” Ron quickly said. “He tried doing a Memory Charm and the wand backfired.”

“Dear me,” the Headmaster chuckled. “Impaled on your own sword, eh? Well then, perhaps you can take him to the Infirmary, Mister Weasley?”

Ron gave them both a confused frown before nodding and leading the wide-eyed man-child out of the room. Fawkes dropped down to sit on Dumbledore’s lap and the old man began stroking the fire-bird’s wings.

“You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber, Harry. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you, so thank you,” the blue eyes twinkled at what Harry knew was a lie. While it was an unusual act, it wasn’t unknown for the phoenix to protect the castle or those within from highly dangerous attack. “And so, you met Tom Riddle. I imagine he was most interested in you…”

“A little, sir,” Harry knew it wouldn’t cost him anything to admit part of the conversation with shade. “After his big speech about how great he was, how he had overcome his origins, and admitted who he became, _that’s_ when he wanted to know about me.”

“Yes. Tom always was a bit full of himself,” Dumbledore chuckled in memory. “And what do you think of him?”

“A waste of potential, sir,” Harry shrugged, not surprised by Dumbledore’s eyes widening at his answer. “I got the impression his life wasn’t the best growing up and he was simply mad at the world. He wanted to make everyone fear him to make himself feel special.”

“Indeed,” the Headmaster muttered, taken aback by the insight into the young Voldemort. A worrying thought flickered across Dumbledore’s mind and he tentatively asked. “You sound as though you understand his position.”

“Only the first part,” Harry answered, honestly, much to Dumbledore’s not-so hidden relief. “I know what it’s like to not feel good about where you come from. This year showed me what its like to have an entire school against me.”

This time the reaction was obvious as the Headmaster winced while remaining silent.

“I could lash out at both of those things, sir, but then I’d be no better than Riddle, wouldn’t I?” Now Harry’s voice broke into that of an exhausted and scared boy. “I don’t want to be like that, sir.”

“Everyone thought you were Slytherin’s heir because you speak Parseltongue, Harry,” Dumbledore softly explained, fully ignoring the fact that he and the rest of the staff could have stopped the year-long bullying at any point. Sal knew the Wraith of Helga would be descending upon the staff once she took her place as a Founder. “I believe the reason you speak Parseltongue is because Riddle, who is the last remaining descendent to Salazar Slytherin, can speak Parseltongue.”

Sal blinked owlishly in confusion, unable to fully comprehend the drivel that was being sent his way.

“Unless I’m mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure.”

“He put a piece of himself in me?” Harry meekly asked while silently fuming. The fool obviously thought him to be a living Horcrux without thinking about the fact the object used had to go through its own series of rituals before it could accept the soul piece. At worst, Harry’s forehead housed a rogue spiritual shadow that could be pulled free by anyone skilled in Soul Magic.

Sal’s thoughts hit a brick wall as a cold chill slithered down his spine. If Dumbledore thought he was a living Horcrux, then what was the man’s eventual plan for his life?

“It seems so.”

“The Hat did want me in Slytherin,” Harry said, not having to fake the unease in his voice.

“And yet it put you in Gryffindor,” Dumbledore pushed, almost desperate to get Harry to see the difference between himself and Riddle. “You may have some of the qualities Slytherin prized…”

A sound suspiciously like coughing came from Sebastian while Fawkes actually rolled his eyes at the statement.

“…You have his own rare gift of Parseltongue, you have resourcefulness, determination, and a certain disregard for the rules. Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor for a reason.”

“I asked it to, sir,” Harry exclaimed as though finding the answer to the Philosopher’s Stone. Sal was on autopilot now, acting as he needed as his sharp intellect completely re-evaluated Dumbledore’s future goals and potential actions.

“Exactly, Harry,” the Headmaster beamed, his eyes twinkling full blast. “It is exactly as you spoke about with Tom’s reaction to his childhood. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”

Dumbledore sat back pleaded with how he had shown the boy the way to his conclusion. His gaze dropped to the new addition to Harry’s wardrobe and mused aloud. “I _do_ wonder why you were given that sword rather than Gryffindor’s.”

“I can answer that, Headmaster,” Sebastian finally spoke up with glee. “The boy could easily have wielded Godric’s blade as keenly as the one I gave him.”

Which was truer than Dumbledore knew. The two Founders had often swapped weapons if a battle required it.

“Yet I felt it was better for him to understand that not everything related to Slytherin is evil,” Sebastian continued, censure in his voice towards the Headmaster who refused to learn that lesson. “And I believed it was right that Salazar’s sword put down Salazar’s pet. A coming of full circle, if you will.”

Dumbledore nodded sagely along with the explanation as though it was exactly what he thought it would be. Apparently, that was enough for the old man who then told Harry to eat and sleep. The Awakened Salazar quickly stood, desperate to rest his aching body, when the office door burst open and an angry and dishevelled Lucius Malfoy stormed into the room, followed by a nervous Dobby. The blond almost knocked Harry over in his need to get into Dumbledore’s face.

Harry blocked out the ranting man and focused his still-developing Mage Sight on Malfoy’s forearm. He _really_ wanted to know more about the infamous Dark Mark. His study, what little he could do, was broken by Dobby pointing between his Master and the diary before smacking his first against his temple in self-punishment. It didn’t take long for Harry to understand the meaning.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with how Ginny got the diary, aren’t you, Mr Malfoy?” Sal asked with cheer, deliberately ignoring the title of Lord.

“And how should I know how a little girl got a hold of it?” The man snapped, snipping around to face Harry.

“Why because you gave it to her! You remember, don’t you? Flourish and Blotts? An old Transfiguration textbook with the diary slipped in?”

Lucius’ hand went white with how hard it tightened around the head of his walking cane. The man’s fury meant he was only able to ground out two words. “Prove it.”

“Oh, no one will be able to do that, Lucius,” Dumbledore interrupted with his own smile, visibly delighted with Harry’s verbal sparring. “Not now Riddle has vanished from the book. But I do advise you not to lend out any more of Lord Voldemort’s old school things. Why I could imagine Arthur Weasley doing everything he could to make sure they traced back to you if you were to continue doing so.”

 _Way to make the Weasleys his main targets, Dumbledore_. Salazar sneered as his battle instincts kicked in. Experience caught the split-second Malfoy’s body tensed in preparation of an attack before the blond pulled himself under somewhat limited control and stormed from the room, his fury an almost living thing that forced Dobby to follow behind in misery. Harry’s own rage rose up and he quickly kicked off his shoe to pull off a sock.

Dumbledore watched in amusement as Harry put the shoe back on, slipped the sock inside the forgotten diary, and raced out after Malfoy without saying a word. The Headmaster’s only thought was how dissimilar the boy was to Tom.

“Mr Malfoy,” Harry called out, loud enough that the man was forced to stop and turn. He immediately tossed the dead diary at the blond’s chest, forcing him to catch it. “I wanted to give this back to you.”

“You’d better watch yourself, Potter,” Malfoy spat, absently tossing Dobby the book. The man had no clue how much he was mirroring his impotent spawn with all the blustering. “Or else you’ll meet the same sticky end as your parents.”

“And anyone who tried will meet the sssame sssticky end asss your Massster,” Harry hissed back, his mask slipping just enough to let Malfoy glimpse the extremely dangerous wizard beneath. He hid the truth as quickly as it was revealed and gave Malfoy a beaming smile. “Have a nice day, Mr Malfoy.”

The hissing speech had caused Lucius to step back as memories of his Dark Lord threatened to overcome him. He quickly turned away from the Boy-Who-Lived and went to storm down the hallway only to catch sight of Dobby holding an old sock.

“What…?”

“Master has given Dobby a sock. Dobby bes free!”

Once more Malfoy spun to face Harry who wondered if the man was getting giddy with all the sharp turns. Sal was briefly reminded of royal court functions and all the impotent Barons the Founders had been forced to deal with. Malfoy made to pull his wand free of its place within his cane only to find himself flying down the hallway and crashing down some steps through the magic of an enraged house-elf.

“You shall not harm Harry Potter!” Dobby roared, his face contorted in righteous fury. “You shall go now. You wills _NOT_ be harming Harry Potter. You shall go now!”

The man who prided himself on his political and financial influence could do nothing but hastily pull himself to his feet and fail to rearrange his dishevelled robes. There was a momentary standoff between the free house-elf pointing his finger at his former master and the wizard who had just been embarrassed by a being he believed was lesser than him, and then Malfoy stormed off. Dobby sheepishly turned to Harry only to be stunned at the sight of the Great Harry Potter kneeling so that they could be eye level.

“Dobby, I want to thank you for what you’ve done this year,” Sal quietly told the elf. “You did your best for me and now I’m going to do the same for you. I want you to get healthy, enjoy your freedom if that’s what you want, and two weeks after I leave Hogwarts you are to come to me. Two weeks, no more, no less, and I’ll give you the chance to become my personal elf.”

A tearful Dobby tackled Harry’s weary body and gave him a Hermione worthy hug. Once the elf was able to pull himself together he gave Harry a watery smile of thanks and popped away.

Harry painfully rose to his feet and instantly knew he had pushed his body as far as it could go. It was in desperate need of shutting down while he equally desperately wanted to see Hermione. He felt eyes on him and half turned to see Dumbledore watching him, the two sharing some type of smile and nod before going their separate ways.

Sal stumbled into the Hospital Wing on his last legs and smiled happily when he saw the bed next to Hermione open. Ron had apparently dropped the mind-mangled Lockhart off and disappeared to find food, Ginny looked asleep as did most of those who had been petrified. Though thankfully Mrs Norris was already long gone.

“Hey, you,” he smiled, weakly, dropping onto the bed with a thump. A sleepy Hermione smiled back and then frowned when she took in his appearance.

“Mister Potter, you shouldn’t be here,” came the familiar voice of the Medi-witch. “I can’t allow visitors yet.”

“Aww, Madam Pomfrey, and here I thought you enjoyed taking care of me,” he mock-whined at the friendly woman.

The Medi-witch gave him a hard look and took in his haggard state before tutting about him not being able to keep himself out of trouble. “And what seems to be the problem?”

Harry gave a wry smile as the woman hovered over him, her wand moving in familiar ways. “Magical, physical, and mental exhaustion after fighting a thousand-year-old basilisk with only a sword, a few internal injuries, and recovering from a bite from said snake.”

“WHAT?”

The stereo screams came from both the Medi-witch and Hermione, giving him flashbacks of dealing with Helga and Rowena.

“Fawkes gave me some tears,” he unhelpfully offered up.

Although it was technically true, the tears weren’t offered in connection with the venom that was Pomfrey was now frantically scanning for. Salazar had, through an extremely painful ritual, found a way of providing himself and his direct descendants immunity to the deadliest poison ever known and, as a by-product, a general immunity to all snake bites. Harry idly wondered how many of his family had found that fact out.

Hermione was in an absolute state and staring at his revealed bite scar in horror. He gave them an edited version of what happened in the Chamber and mentioned how his magic seemed to _explode_ once the venom had been neutralised. Another truth hidden in a half-lie.

“I can see that, Mister Potter,” Pomfrey snapped, her wand moving at a furious speed. “I can also see where one of my Core Replenishing Potions went. I’m going to give you a Dreamless Sleep so your body has time to recover, and maybe one to Miss Granger now you’ve scared us both to death with your latest adventure.”

Hermione gave a wide-eyed nod and Harry realised just how scared she was for him. Madam Pomfrey had barely disappeared into her supply room before he was on Hermione’s bed and pulling the girl into a tight hug.

The fact that Harry had initiated the contact snapped Hermione out of her shock better than any potion could have, and she immediately tightened her arms around him. There was something different about her Harry, something about the way he moved and especially how he looked at her. She couldn’t work out what it was but then she was still recovering and not at her best. So instead of worrying, Hermione simply enjoyed their new closeness and hoped it wasn’t gone in the morning.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

Hermione got her wish. Leading up to the end of the school year Harry hugged her as much as she did him, smiled and laughed much more than he ever did, and seemed to truly enjoy her company. He even surprised her by dragging her off to Professor McGonagall’s office to ask for a change of electives so that he could take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes alongside Care of Magical Creatures, dropping Divination. She’d almost kissed him right then and there.

He had also explained, in far more detail than in the Infirmary, what happened in the Chamber of Secrets and how he had to fight against You-Know-Who _again_. Yet somehow this time seemed to have given him a confidence that the fight with Quirrell never did. Hermione couldn’t place it, but it was as though this was how Harry should have been rather than the Harry she had known before being petrified.

The change in Harry also meant there was a change in the friendship of the Gryffindor trio. While Harry allowed Ron to claim a much bigger role in defeating the basilisk than what she knew he had – because there was no way she wasn’t going to believe Harry over the loudmouth – he refused to allow the redhead to say a single word against her. Ron’s mouth had always got away from him, whether complaining about her reading habits or her focus on homework, yet now Harry was in the redhead’s face the moment it started.

In the few times Harry wasn’t with her, Ron blamed the stress of the Chamber on Harry being different and how he needed the summer without any complaining about homework to get back to the old Harry. Hermione chose to ignore this ‘advice’ and focus on the new Harry.

The only time she had been worried was when she noticed him intensely scanning the Ravenclaw table during the Leaving Feast. His eyes, so much brighter and clearer than she had ever noticed them being, locked onto the quiet form of a blonde first year and he asked if anyone knew her name.

“’er?” Ron mumbled around a mouthful of food. “That’s Loony Lovegood. Lives near us.”

“Ron,” Harry had said in a chilling voice, turning his neck to look directly at the other boy. “We’ve been friends for the last two years so I’m warning you now. Call her that again and I’ll break your nose, rip your bits off, and feed them to you until you choke. Are we clear?”

Hermione had been ready to scold her friend for his language when she caught sight of Ron’s face. Her position on Harry’s other side meant she couldn’t see his look but Ron had gone from the early signs of anger to scared in the blink of an eye and couldn’t nod his head fast enough.

She wondered what the little blonde was to Harry but that thought got derailed when she remembered all the names she had been called in primary school and how much they had hurt. Had Harry somehow found out the girl was being bullied? She looked at the Ravenclaw in question and noticed that she appeared to be ignored by everyone around her. Something deep inside Hermione, something she had been fighting against since she had seen this new Harry, reacted to the idea of this slip of a girl being bullied and silently swore to look out for her the next year

As for Harry, it had been far too easy for him to get the Marauder’s Map. His first private moment after leaving the Hospital Wing saw him asking one of the Hogwarts elves to take it from the twins when they finally went to sleep. A bit of Mage Sight, his many years of reading wards, and carefully assessing the individual magics within the parchment gave him the humorous passwords. He now knew as much about the Map as the creators did and far more than the minuscule knowledge the twins had collected.

He did wonder which of the four names had been his dad’s.

The last days of second year were all about integrating the memories of his two lives and promising Cassie that he would begin to bring her back to her former glory in September. As impatient as the castle was, she understood it wasn’t a good idea for him to show his hand now only to then disappear for the summer and she glumly agreed to wait. That didn’t stop her pouting.

He had gotten closer to Hermione and spent a little bit of time back in his Chamber, using other entrances that Riddle had never found, and brought the place up to modern standards. He had also put Slinky’s body under a massive Shrinking Charm to put it into an old trunk possessing an equally massive Expansion Charm he had found in the Room of Requirement. Both spells had worn Harry out and made it obvious his magic was still struggling to settle.

The spell only worked on Slinky’s body because of the magical connection from being Salazar’s pet and son of his familiar. It also meant that it wouldn’t last longer than a few weeks before breaking down in spectacular fashion and send basilisk parts flying everywhere. Sal was sure that he would have passed the carcass off to the goblins by that point, so they could render the magnificent animal down.

The Express ride to London was quiet with Harry making sure Neville joined the trio in their compartment. It was superficially so that he could apologise for the end of their first year when Hermione petrified the Longbottom Scion, but it was really so Sal could spend more time with his brother. He’d missed Godric so much when he hunted down Salestine and the ache had returned the moment he had Awakened.

He promised to write to everyone over the holidays and left them to face the living anger that was Vernon Dursley. With his back to anyone who knew him, Harry let out a Slytherin smirk and his eyes slightly pulsed with magic that had the large man swallowing in fear.

Even an idiot could learn that things had changed if given the right incentive and Harry was about to give Vernon plenty of incentive.

.

.

OoOoO

 


	2. A Snake Sheds its Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry now possesses Sal's confidence and power and makes the Dursleys pay for their abuse before heading out into Diagon to begin the first day of the rest of his life.

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “speech emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

A Snake Sheds its Skin

 

_25 th June 1993_

The ride back from King’s Cross was far different to the one a year previous. The car had barely pulled away from the station when Harry opened Hedwig’s cage, allowing the beautiful owl could rest on his bent forearm. She nuzzled against his chest and he ran a knuckle through her feathers, the action soothing to them both as it always had been.

Hedwig had known there was something different about her wizard as soon as he emerged from the Chamber but had accepted the changes without issue. As far as Hedwig was concerned, he would always be hers.

Neither of the Dursleys were happy with Harry’s actions. Petunia sniffed in disgust and lifted her nose even more into the air once she caught sight of Hedwig in the rear-view mirror while the man-walrus opened his mouth to begin ranting. Harry cut off anything either would say by causing his eyes to glow with power and giving them a rather disturbing smirk.

“I learnt a lot this past year,” he said in a cold voice that had Petunia shivering. It sounded older and far more dangerous than she had ever heard come from her nephew. “You’d be surprised at what’s possible without getting into trouble.”

The threat had Vernon’s jaw snapping shut, the bully’s neck growing red with anger while Petunia paled. The rest of the drive saw both Dursleys constantly sniping and criticising anyone they saw who either didn’t fit their definitions of normality or ability to drive while doing their best to pretend Harry hadn’t spoken. Every complaint was louder than usual, each sneer and biting comment made with more venom than a normal drive. The two had worked themselves into an obvious frenzy as they neared Privet Drive, stoking their disgusting behaviour until it allowed them to ignore Harry’s warning. The man in a boy’s body didn’t need to read Vernon’s thoughts to know the man was planning on ‘putting the boy in his place.’

“Petunia,” he spoke up as he neared his prison. The woman jumped in surprise at being spoken to and let out an undignified squeak. His tone demanded a response. “Is Dudley in?”

“Ah,” he nodded sagely when she nodded. “He wanted to get the physssical attacksss in early. That’sss good.”

Vernon’s eye twitched at the hisses and the bully tried his best to cheer himself up by imagining that he had drowned the brat the first time he had done any freakishness. The daydream wasn’t as soothing as it might have been when the boy caught his eye in the mirror and gave him a knowing look.

 Harry put Hedwig on top of her cage as the car pulled into Number Four’s driveway and immediately dove forward to press his fingers against the back of their necks, the rear-view mirror flashing Avada green from the shine of Sal’s eyes.

  _~~”Imperio,”~~_ he cast in Parseltongue, pushing as much magic through his fingers as he dared.

 Salazar was a Potions Master of the highest order, potentially the greatest who had ever lived, as well as being a Master of the Mind Arts. While those who knew about Legilimency were aware it could be performed windlessly, it surprised him to learn that no one knew the Imperius could be done the same way.

 Just like with its mind-reading sibling, trying to control a mind without a focus was never as powerful nor as capable of being hidden from observers and so had never been a viable trick to learn for combat. As like in many ways, Salazar was unusual, and with physical contact and Parseltongue was able to completely dominate the Dursleys.

 “Petunia,” Sal’s voice was cold as ice and the woman shivered through the mind control at the hatred pouring from his small frame. “Go inside the house and act completely normal. Get Dudley into the kitchen and convince him to stay there by offering to make his favourite desert.”

 Harry let her neck go and the controlled woman exited the car without hesitation. He didn’t bother watching, knowing he had completely taken her will with the overpowering of the spell. He hadn’t bothered about damaging their minds since it wasn’t as if the Dursleys were never going to pay for all his scars. Sal leant forward to see Vernon’s profile and grinned at the fear he felt beneath his fingers.

 “You will answer my questions truthfully,” he commanded, sending an unneeded second pulse of magic through his tight grip and straight into the man’s vile mind. “What are your savings?”

 “A little over a thousand in our family account,” Vernon answered in a lifeless tone that any respecting magical would recognise as Veritaserum-like. “I have more than a hundred thousand in my hidden account.”

 Harry frowned at the amount. He was fully aware of the Dursleys’ finances given Vernon’s inability to keep his mouth shut and how much they spoiled Dudley. The first figure was far more in keeping with their spending habits.

 “Where did the money in the second account come from? What are you plans for it?”

 “That old fool who left you here sends money every month,” Vernon’s words were laced with smugness even through the spell. “We only have to put up with you until you’re seventeen and then you’re gone, and we can use the money as a down payment for our dream home.”

 Harry snarled at the answer and his magic crackled, the fury sending jolts of pain through the disgusting man’s nervous system. After every complain throughout Harry’s childhood of being a drain on their finances, the bastards were pocketing money for his upkeep. His original plan for the family burned to ash as the dangerous snake he was struck back at his enemies.

 “You will go to the bank and withdraw everything. You’ll provide all the correct information and push to have the withdraw rushed through. Give them any excuse you need,” Sal snarled. The spell reacted to his rage and made getting the money Vernon’s sole reason for life. “You’ll then get in touch with Grunnings and let them know there’s been a family emergency before coming straight back here. No side trips, no attempts to fight my orders, no attempts to gain any help to fight me. “

 The thought of handing over the money brought out Vernon’s own anger only for the small flame of emotion to be snuffed out by the inferno of Salazar’s magic. The man nodded, fully under the spell’s control, and Harry finally released his tormenter. He quickly got out of the car with his trunk and Hedwig’s cage and blazing emerald eyes watched the car pull out and drive away.

 “This is going to be a _very_ short visit, girl,” Harry explained to Hedwig who sat on his shoulder, nuzzling into his hair to help calm him. “Why don’t you take a lazy flight to Diagon? If I’m not out of here tonight, I’ll be at the Cauldron by tomorrow afternoon the latest.”

 The hoot in response was half question, half seeking assurances to his mental state. Harry merely reached up to stroke her breast feathers while turning his gaze to the house.

 “I’ll be okay, Hed,” he promised, mostly meaning it rather than giving a token vow. “Once I’m gone from here, I can start getting my life under my own control. Then I get to introduce you to Rowena.”

 His avian familiar affectionately nibbled his ear before taking off. He couldn’t bring himself to watch her leave, instead he dragged his meagre belongings into Number Four and left them at the bottom of the stairs.

 He was already hurting from using his magic. He’d managed a Confundus on Madam Pomfrey to keep her from noticing he had two merging cores, but the reality was that basilisk venom, even with his immunity, was powerful enough to destabilise his magic for the majority of the summer. He thanked the gods that the other Founders weren’t as stupid with their own Awakening keys as he had been, and their merging would be practically seamless.

 Needless to say, Harry’s history with blocking out pain was being put to good use with how raw the magical channels making up his nervous system were being abused by every pulse, spell, or emotional outburst until he fully healed. Thankfully for Harry, being Salazar Slytherin incarnate meant he knew and could brew potions that could do almost everything he might need to do magic wise once he was clear of the Dursleys.

  _Pain now, freedom later._ Came a saying from deep within Salazar’s childhood.

 Harry took control of his magic and focused on exactly what he wanted it to do. He could hear Petunia working in the kitchen, doing her best to convince Dudley to leave him alone. The bully-boy was too much a spoilt brat to accept his favourite punching bag had been taken away and he was making the point loudly and childishly.

  _Much like how Malfoy will be next year._ Harry chuckled as he stepped into the kitchen with glowing hands raised and spoke before either could react to his presence.

  _~~”Caveam Memoria!”~~_

 The Dark memory curse hit both targets and immediately thrust them within a nightmare of Salazar’s choosing. The Memory Cave spell was an insidious piece of Mind Magic that put the victim into a world of the caster’s specific design, including memories. A never-ending heaven or hell that they couldn’t escape from without the counter.

 Dudley’s head dropped onto the kitchen table with a bang as he was locked into reliving Harry’s ten years at Privet Drive. Petunia’s horror was to suffer the pain of Rowena’s early life and all the different abuses she suffered. Harry joined his aunt in collapsing to the tiled floor as his body was wracked with spasms, muscles doing their best to rip themselves free from his bones. He tasted blood as clenched his teeth to keep from making a noise as he felt the true inspiration behind the creation of the Cruciatus Cruse.

 “Shit,” he cursed once the pain eventually subsided, spitting out a piece of his inner cheek onto the white tiles. “Damn Gryffindor pushing yourself. Dobby!”

 “The Great Harry Pot…Master Harry!” The hyperactive elf squeaked as he saw the state of the Greatest Wizard Ever Born.

 “Trunk. Healing potions,” Harry managed to cough, spitting out more blood with a wince. _Damn, it’s in the lungs again._

 The eager house-elf wasted no time in popping the trunk into the room and retrieving the required potions. Among the vile concoctions was another Core Replenishing and he had to remind himself just how dangerous they were when used with any regularity. The merging cores only increased the danger of their use. It wouldn’t keep him from doing what he felt needed to be done as both Harry and Salazar had grown up learning how to push themselves to breaking point if needed. He was stubborn that way.

 “That you, Dobby,” he sighed from his new position on the couch where the elf had immediately popped him. Harry learnt back and closed his eyes with a deep sigh of a man many times his physical age. “I need sleep. I’m expecting my uncle to return eventually. I need you to bind him, silence him, and keep him hidden away until I wake up, okay?”

 Dobby nodded frantically even as Sal slipped into the realm of Morpheus and then snapped his fingers to convert the large seat into a comfortable bed. A second snap had the curtains closed to keep anyone from seeing the Great Harry Potter resting.

 The elf looked around the room in disgust. The past summer had seen him scouting the Great Harry Potter and what he found broke his heart. Dobby decided to act as though he had already become Harry Potter Sir’s elf and clean the house, so his Master would never need to do a lowly house-elf’s work ever again.

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The evening was bleeding into night when Harry awoke, feeling as good as he had when Pomfrey released him from the Infirmary. He pulled himself off the transfigured couch and stretched, cracking his back and shoulders in loud releases of tension. Dobby popped into the room before the first crack was over.

“Nasty man came back just as Master Harry Potter Sir said he would,” the elf announced. “Dobby bes putting him in bedroom next to frozen lady.”

Harry blinked, sleep slowing his thoughts, and then made a sound of understanding when he remembered that his Memory Cave spell caused someone to appear as though in a coma.

“And the frozen boy?”

“In Master Harry Potter's old room,” Dobby answered with a dark gleam in his large eyes. When Harry realised the elf meant the cupboard under the stairs he gave an equally evil grin.

“I know I said two weeks, by how would you like to be my elf now?”

The next thing Harry knew was being back on the transfigured bed with a very happy elf clinging to his lower body.

“Oh yes, Master Harry Potter Sir! Dobby bes wanting to bes Master Harry’s elf for so long!”

Harry chuckled at the little guy’s enthusiasm and gently pushed Dobby away so that he could press his dominant palm on the elf's head.

“I, Harry James Potter, also known as the rebirthed Salazar Antioch Peverell-Slytherin,” _that_ piece of information and the subtle hissing with each ‘s’ sound caused Dobby's eyes to widen to comical levels. “Do hereby take on Dobby the house-elf as my personal elf. My magic is his magic, my family is his family.”

Dobby was vibrating with excitement as he began his own oath of loyalty.

“Dobby the house-elf do offer himself as personal elf to Harry James Potter, also known as...” He trailed off and it was only a reassuring smile from Harry that enabled Dobby to continue. “The rebirthed Salazar Antioch Peverell-Slytherin. His magic bes Dobby's magic, his family bes Dobby's family.”

The bonding finished with a soft glow that surrounded them both and Dobby stood taller and looked healthier than Harry had ever seen him when the magic faded. He was also in a very smart gentleman's gentleman uniform that had the Potter and Slytherin crests on the breast pocket. Harry gave a firm nod of appreciation at the outfit.

“Now, did Vernon come back with anything?” Harry asked his new valet.

“Oh yes, sir,” Dobby nodded with a click of his fingers. “Nasty man come back with case.”

Harry took the black suitcase swung it onto the table where it landed with a very loud _thud_. A quick click of the locks later had Harry looking at a very large pile of money. He checked the included receipt to find out how much had been deducted for the quick withdrawal.

“Twenty percent fees? Is Vernon sure he wasn't banking with the goblins?” Harry whistled, staring down at the tight bundles of sterling as he did some mental calculations. The Galleon conversion would be a drop in the bucket compared to his wealth, but he took sadistic pleasure knowing he had taken something precious from Vernon. “Dobby, did you unpack my trunk?”

“Yes, sir. Did Dobby do bad?”

“No, it's fine,” Harry assured the elf as he threw the receipt onto the table and shut the case. “I had been thinking about staying here but I think it's best I don't. I can do my brewing when I get to the Leaky Cauldron, so I'll need you to repack my stuff, please.”

Dobby nodded and popped away to leave Salazar thinking over his plan. He needed the Dursleys out of his life and every time he tried coming up with something less _permanent,_ he would remember how successful it had been in his old life.

“Ah well, it's not as though anyone is alive to make the connection between what happened to them and this lot.” he reminded himself. Dobby popped back into the living room with Harry's trunk, apparently all ready to go. “What about Hedwig's cage?”

“Shrunk and in trunk, Master Harry!” The elf said in a somewhat military voice. Harry's eyebrows raised as he suddenly remembered that a proper bonding with house-elves caused them to take on interesting personality traits to match their master's. _Helga’s going to rip her hair out and Godric will laugh himself hoarse once this bond settles._

“Very good, Dobby,” the elf beamed and stood even straighter. “I need you to make a copy of this case and the money inside and then shrink the real one for me. We'll be taking it with us.”

“Master Harry,” Dobby said a little nervously. “Elves not bes allowed to make perfect copies of monies.”

“I know, and you're absolutely right in pointing that out,” Harry agreed, and Dobby sighed in relief when he wasn't told off for correcting his Master. “It’s not going to be used for spending.”

Dobby nodded and did what had been asked. Harry slipped the real case in his pocket and made his way to the master bedroom, thinking over his plan the entire way. He would only need to cast one more Imperius on Vernon and then would stay away from using magic for as long as his body demanded.

“Dobby, I also need you to cast a small glamour on me,” Harry said, knowing the elf was listening even with them being in different parts of the house. “Nothing big, just make me look a healthy fifteen or sixteen, longer hair, a slightly pointier jaw, more prominent cheekbones, and paler skin.”

The glamour was in place before Harry walked into the bedroom. As such an irate, silenced and chained up Vernon only saw a young man resembling a teenage Salazar. The teenager stopped to stare at the marriage bed. Petunia truly did look like she was in a coma while Vernon was thrashing around as much as the elf bindings would allow. He was dark purple with rage and constantly ranting, although Harry heard nothing coming out of the open mouth. Harry stalked towards his prey and the room rippled from his sheer presence. It was a very scared Vernon who watched two fingers being lowered to his forehead.

_~~“Imperio”~~_ Harry hissed the spell and winced as his body immediately complained. “Vernon Dursley, for the crimes against your Blood, I sentence you to death. When you hear the front door close, your bonds will vanish, and you shall be free to move.”

Dobby, who now stood on the other side of the bed next to the still form of Petunia, nodded his head in understanding. Harry then continued with his instructions, commanding Vernon to burn as much as the fake money as possible but leave the receipt alone. He would then use the same cricket bat he had taken to Harry and beat both Petunia and Dudley until they were almost dead before calling the police.

“You will use these words; ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ll make it right.’ Drop the phone, climb onto the chair at the bottom of your bed and wrap the noose around your neck. You will hang yourself, Vernon Dursley. And your dying thoughts will be the uselessness of your bigotry and how your own anger killed you.”

Two elf clicks and pops announced the appearance of the chair as well as a magically strengthened rob. Dobby had understood his Master’s plan and agreed with it.

Harry was walking away as soon as his last command had been given. He was only partially aware of his surroundings as he slipped into his meditative state to bury his history with the Dursleys into the deepest recesses of his mind. With any luck he would never had to access them again.

“Take my trunk, Dobby. I want you to rent a double room with Tom at the Leaky Cauldron,” He commanded as he reached for the front door. “I'll be taking the Knight Bus and will meet you there.”

Harry didn't wait for the reply and less than five minutes later he came to the end of Privet Drive. He never looked back as he pulled out his wand to call for the insanity that was the Knight Bus.

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Harry used the Knight Bus' long-winded journey to get his emotions and thoughts under control. Salazar Slytherin had killed more people than the history books knew or even suggested but this was the first time that Harry had actively taken a life beyond his actions against the possessed Quirinus Quirrell. And as much as Sebastian the Hat might call him Sal, Harry was still as much Harry Potter as he was the misunderstood Founder and was drawing on the experiences of Salazar to ease Harry’s worries. Because the most shocking thing about the entire event was just how little Harry cared.

_I'm worrying that I'm not worried about what I've done,_ he snorted as the Bus finally made it into London Proper. Thinking over how his friends would react didn't help much. He knew Helga would be disappointed but mostly worried, Ro would weigh up everything and use her Sight to determine if it had been his only true option, and Godric would blink, shrug, and then try beating the crap out of him to make sure it hadn't given him a taste for senseless slaughter.

Those thoughts sent Harry to consider their new lives. Hermione's love of authority figures matched Helga's need to be grounded, and Neville's issues with an overly stern parental figure was scarily similar to why a young Godric had travelled the country on his own. Those thoughts brought his brooding up short as he realised that _of course_ they would understand. They knew him.

After all, you don't really remain sane having to live through _two_ abusive childhoods.

The Knight Bus came to a jarring stop and Harry easily jumped off, ignoring the talkative Stanley's attempts to chat him up. As it vanished off on its next journey, Harry smiled warmly as he remembered the Knight Carriage, an extremely large version of the Hogwarts carriages that once did the same job as the modern Bus.

The wench who ran it was always good for a laugh and some adult relaxation.

Breaking himself away from _that_ line of thinking, his body was still only twelve after all, Harry slipped into the Leaky Cauldron and directly up to Tom behind the counter.

“My elf came in earlier,” He said once he caught the man's eye.

“Ah yes, Room Eight, the double,” Tom cheerfully smiled. “Paid up for the week and here's your key, sir. Do you need anything?”

“What's on the burner?” Salazar asked, smoothly slipping the key off the counter and into his robe's pocket without even looking down.

“Got some nice fish going or a bit of beef to warm up for Sunday if that's your fancy.”

“I'll take the fish, plenty of sides with a couple of Butterbeers to go with,” Harry answered without needing to think. “I'll take it in my room.”

“Not a problem, sir. Have a good evening,” Tom nodded as he turned to a large man who had stumbled over, clearly having had one too many drinks already.

“You too,” Harry gave a nod of thanks and made his way up the stairs, thankful for Dobby glamouring his clothes as well as his appearance. Too many people forgot the clothes and slipped up with their disguises when they changed their looks.

Harry found that Dobby had already unpacked his trunk, the window was open, and a happy Hedwig was now perched on top of her cage. She hooted once in greeting and then tucked her head against her shoulder to sleep. He gave her a loving smile as Dobby popped in to remove the glamour.

“I'll need you to buy dirty-blond dye for my hair and Muggle make-up for my scar,” he explained, taking out the suitcase for Dobby to resize. “I need about ten thousand Galleons and a blood-bound money bag as well. I've got a lot to buy before September.”

“Yes, Sir!” Dobby exclaimed with a two-handed salute before popping off. Harry snorted at the cheek and thought he had made a good decision taking on the eccentric elf.

The meal appeared on the side table and Harry immediately wolfed it down. It wasn't as good as a Hogwarts meal but it certainly better than having to make it himself. He only got through half the first bottle of butterbeer when the events of the day caught up with him and Harry fell fast asleep atop the bed.

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OoOoO

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_26th June 1993_

He woke feeling refreshed and at ease in a way he hadn't felt before. Harry knew it came from knowing that Vernon, at the very least, was dead and he would never have to see Privet Drive again. He let out a heavy sigh and shook the maudlin feelings away, there was far too much to do now to keep thinking of the past.

A shower and hair dye later and a naked Harry was glaring at his pitiful clothes. Any embarrassment about his body, even with the scars, was long dead with the help of Salazar's memories.

“Dobby!” He called in frustration, hating the fact he couldn't perform magic. The elf appeared and then quickly covered his large eyes, squeaking at his Master's state of undress. “Don't worry about this, Dobs. I'm not bothered.”

“Yes, sir, Master Harry, sir,” Dobby replied without putting his hands down. Harry chuckled at the way the elf's ears were turning pink.

“I need you to transfigure my school uniform into something worthy of being worn,” he turned his nose up at his uniform being his best clothing. “Better fitting trousers and make the shirt forest green. I'll be off to Tatting's for a proper wardrobe. Actually, that means you'd better transfigure one of my robes into having dark green lining and my Slytherin crest on the breast. Keep it hidden unless I've mentioned it to someone.”

Dobby's click of the fingers had his Master Harry dressed in the uniform. That he also included the shoes, so Harry's perspective shot up an inch without the experience of putting them on was a bit unnerving. A second click had everything how Harry had asked, and he took a moment to study the long full body mirror. The outfit was the closest to what Salazar preferred wearing since the Awakening.

“Perfect,” Harry nodded, and Dobby beamed proudly before disappearing.

A quick cover up of his scar meant it was a completely unknown boy who went through the barrier separating the Leaky Cauldron from Diagon Alley. Harry went immediately to the more upscale Twilfitt and Tatting's where he was accosted by a man who wouldn't have been out of place in Savile Row.

“Eaglestone Tatting, at your service, young sir,” the wizard announced himself, looking Harry in the eyes while keeping his nose slightly peaked to the ceiling. It was an impressive piece of snobbery no matter the time period. “How may one be of service?”

“Master Tatting, you're in luck,” Salazar announced in the most cultured voice his twelve-year-old voice box could manage. “My family is in the process of moving here and somehow my wardrobe trunk had a cascade runic failure. The expansions failed and destroyed everything except what I'm currently wearing.”

A man such as Eaglestone Tatting merely nodded to such a horror tale and focused on the important details.

“Do forgive me, young sir, but what you're asking for is not for the faint of wallet...”

“Completely understood, Master Tatting,” he interrupted with a friendly smirk, bringing his left hand across to tap the hidden crest with a spark of magic. “Alas, my cousin is the one who wears the family ring, but I believe you recognise the crest, yes?”

To Eaglestone Tatting's credit, his only reaction was a raising of both eyebrows at the sight of the most infamous House crest in British history. When Harry's touch reactivated Dobby's notice-me-not charm, the man pulled himself together and turned, walking immediately to the most private area of the shop.

“Very good, young sir.” Tatting announced, not even looking to see if Harry was following him. “And to clarify, it _is_ an entire fitting for you today? From the bottom up, correct?”

“It is, and this won’t be the only time,” Harry allowed some childish humour to bleed into his voice as he followed, sharp eyes already picking out some styles that he liked and those he definitely wanted to avoid. “I thought I was doing my cousin a favour by bringing his clothes along with me.”

“Just step up here, young sir,” Tatting indicated a raised platform. As soon as Harry stepped up he was surrounded by measuring tapes taking readings from every part of his body. “And this cousin is the same one you mentioned earlier?”

“The one who wears the ring, yes,” Harry said, doing his best to ignore the tapes that were triple checking his inner seam measurements and how much breathing room his trousers would need. “You will have to outfit him as completely as you are me. That might not be until nearer the end of summer though.”

“Very good, young sir,” Came the automatic reply as the man focused on showing Harry the shop's collection of colours and materials.

Harry immediately picked out Acromantula silk for his base clothing but threw in Nundu fur for robe lining, seams, and those really important clothes that one simply _must_ be impressive in. Chimera teeth were chosen for buttons on the Nundu outfits as well as for a collection of Slytherin crested cufflinks. He made sure to get a set of boots made of the skin of a Romanian Longhorn with a second from a Peruvian Vipertooth.

He did this shopping with the fully knowledge that he still had most of his basilisk-hide clothing preserved within his Slytherin vault. As Mr. Tatting moved from materials to colours, Harry held back a sigh from how much he missed wearing that unique skin.

It took hours for Harry and Mr. Tatting to get through every possible item of clothing 'a young sir of sir's noble heritage might wear', including a surprising number of options for underwear. Twilfitt and Tatting's also provided a section of watches and other accessories Harry might need. He might have gone a bit crazy with those, claiming he would get for his 'cousin' at the same time.

Without having a ring and its connected vault, the paying for Harry's new clothes felt as though it took as long as the fittings did. Harry was forced to carefully count out the G4,400 bill. Well, it was really a little over four thousand and two, but Harry decided to round up to the nearest two hundred as a tip. When the man offered a scale to count the coins, Harry quickly refused.

“Just as you must make sure every item fitted me, I must make sure every coin you're owed is counted,” he had replied in a voice that brokered no argument. Tatting couldn't believe the breeding of the young sir and was looking forward to the cousin turning up.

“Now, since the trunk's collapse was unexpected,” Harry said as he was counting out the last hundred stack. “I'm slumming a bit at the Leaky Cauldron until I get everything. There's nothing worse than looking at a proper sized wardrobe that hasn't been filled to the correct degree.”

“Indeed, young sir,” Tatting agreed wholeheartedly, especially at the volume of this sale. “I can make sure your casual Acromantula sets are ready by lunch if that would make things easier?”

“It would,” Harry agreed, slipping his money pouch back into his pocket. “I'll collect it then. If my calculations are accurate, the last of my order should be ready by the end of next week?”

“Yes, sir. Earlier if Maria finishes our other orders quickly.”

“Send it to room eight at the Cauldron, Master Tatting,” Harry smiled, offering his hand to the professional. “And I'll make sure my cousin hears about just how good Twilfitt and Tatting's truly is.”

“My many thanks, young sir,” Eaglestone Tatting beamed back, already excited over being able to measure up a young Lord Slytherin.

Harry left the shop and immediately headed back to the Cauldron in search of a good lunch. He might get too busy to eat at times, but he wasn't going to be starving himself if food was available.

The Full English was delicious, the Prophet was informative and showed Harry what he was dealing with. The paper appeared to enjoy making suggestive comments as much as it reported news and it was obviously partisan to the Ministry's perspective. Harry made a mental note to get a solicitor on retainer before he went public with his rings. Being a young Lord Potter was one thing, but he could imagine how explosive it would be when it was announced he was also the new Lord Slytherin. Heck, he could imagine how explosive it would be for _any_ new Lord Slytherin. The last thing Harry wanted to deal with was a country-wide propaganda machine working full blast against him.

After breakfast it was a quick run to his room for Dobby to put the older glamour back on and then it was back into Diagon for the Apothecary. A stray thought had him wondering if anyone knew that house-elf glamours were more like Polyjuice than basic illusions.

It was a much more arrogant Salazar who stalked into the potion shop and he immediately poured, measured, and weighed almost every available ingredient the Apothecary sold. The woman behind the counter could only look on in shock and not a little fear at the ease he moved around some of the more deadlier choices. She was also confused as to why he also picked up the Hogwarts kits for all five OWL years as well as the Potential Practical Potioneering kits for those taking NEWTs. The second kit were made with the full endorsement of the Practical Potioneer Journal and had a much better quality of goods than those doing their OWLs would get.

When Harry put the magically expanded basket on the counter he proceeded to run off a list of another twenty-five ingredients the Apothecary didn't publicly sell but he knew they could get hold of. He had another fifteen that he would have to get from Knockturn Alley as his research showed the Ministry had made them illegal.

“Sir!” The woman exclaimed when Harry eventually finished his list. “I don't even know what you're doing with all of this, but I can't sell it to you. You could be making absolutely anything with what you've picked up!”

“ _That_ is the point, Madam,” he sneered with contempt. “My Potions Master wishes for me to set up my own laboratory before he even thinks about my final year of Apprenticeship. _This_ is my first steps into that and no doubt he'll still find it lacking in some way.”

Which was so funny that Harry struggled to keep a straight face through the rant. Salazar had given his most prized students their own personal accounts and told them to do exactly what he had just done as they approached gaining their Masters. He had even knocked a few of them down a few pegs when they under-bought or even straight out forgot some ingredients.

“Potions Master? Apprenticeship?” The woman squeaked, eyes bugging out at the news. Harry frowned at that until a stray bit of knowledge surfaced. Snape was the youngest known Potions Master and he was years older than Harry's apparent age. “But, but...”

Harry sighed and brought his hand up to once again tap his robe's crest. “My great uncle is teaching me. It's a family legacy.”

The woman went bone white at seeing the Slytherin crest and Harry caught a flash of her thinking to call the Aurors. Instinct kicked in and he reached across the counter to grip her wrist. A quick hissed Imperio later had the woman looking forward to seeing the grumpy bastard Snape losing his record while Harry was taking deep breaths to push back the painful cramps.

He meditated as he counted out the almost two-thousand-Galleon bill and wondered why his magic was hurting as much as it was. The obvious answer came like a smack across the face and Harry felt foolish for not thinking of it sooner.

As Salazar, he naturally slipped into using Parseltongue when wanting to cast spells he absolutely _needed_ to work the first time. The trouble was that Parsel Magic had a greater connection to the caster's core. The exact same fact was true with wandless magic. Since Harry’s Awakening, he had almost solely been doing both and completely ignoring his wand. He could probably get away with a handful of spells in Latin, more if he used his wand as an extra buffer from overtaxing his core. It was now blatantly obvious that his normal methods were doing him harm. Old...new?..habits certainly died hard.

Harry took his purchases back to the room and had Dobby release the glamour. A quick check had the little guy promising he knew how to purchase, handle, and set up ingredients for any future purchases.

“Then I want you to put up temporary shelves in the second bedroom and line up all the stable ingredients there,” Harry instructed. “Leave the really dangerous stuff alone until I'm able to get a trunk that has its own Potion section.”

Once more wearing the younger glamour, Harry re-entered Diagon Alley and headed straight for Know Your Trunk. His experience with the Apothecary woman had put him on edge and he moved directly to the multi-compartment section and explained he wanted both a magical signature lock _and_ a blood lock. The owner attempted to argue, saying that both were simply overkill.

“Sir, with both locks I could allow limited access to my trunk for other people,” Harry snapped, cutting the man off mid pompous rant. “I know this is possible, you know this is possible. We also know that the magical signature lock can be switched off and only activate if an opening sequence with the blood lock hasn't been followed.”

“Now you're just channelling Mad-Eye Moody,” the man grumbled. Harry had no idea who the shop owner was talking about and didn't care. “But if you're absolute sure you want it and are willing to pay the extra to have them not interfere with each other, then I'll do it.”

“And that's all you had to say,” Harry grumbled, not caring that he was coming across as a snot nosed kid back-chatting to his elder.

For the third time that day a large number of Galleons had to be counted out. This time Harry got Dobby to immediately come and collect the trunk and had him throw out the old one.

Were the locks overkill? Absolutely. But it wasn't as though Godric had never complained about his paranoia.

Harry decided to take it easy for the rest of the day. Which meant splurging in Flourish and Blott's, picking up plenty of owl treats as well as a new perch for Hedwig and then enough stationary equipment from Scrivenshaft's to start his own small supply chain. A quick swing back into Tatting's to get the first batch of his new clothing and Harry was ready to collapse.

In fact, he barely made it back to his room before exhaustion set in and he was forced into a very early rest.

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OoOoO

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_27th June 1993 – Late_

Harry rolled off the bed and changed clothes in a haze. It took food and a black tea from Dobby to get his brain up to speed. The latter being drunk as he stood at the window.

Diagon Alley had long since passed the time of shops being closed and was now being filled by those who embraced the night. Teenagers who had left Hogwarts and young adults not yet in demanding jobs mingled together as they made their way towards Festive Alley from Diagon's public Apparition points. Some of the downtrodden who lived in Knockturn would be making their own ways to the clubbing district through their hidden shadows. The vampires, werewolves, and other Ministry labelled “half-breeds” would also be stretching their own legs from their segregated Supernature Alley.

It was amazing the type of knowledge that one could gleam from a librarian who was faced with an information sponge hidden inside an overly polite twelve-year-old boy.

The people enjoying the early night air and those they would cross in their nightly pursuits were exactly the people Salazar had enjoyed spending time with. Right then and there, Harry decided to use the power of his Boy-Who-Lived title to make a difference to the underside of Wizarding Britain. An underside he was sure were downtrodden and mistreated by those in power.

He turned from the window and into the second bedroom that Dobby had set up as his own private laboratory. The original bed had been shrunk or simply transfigured into something more useful, he wasn't sure, and now a single table dominated the room. Taking up the majority of its surface were seven cauldrons; the middle five were brass, the far right silver, and the far left a pewter. Most of the Hogwarts required ingredients were covering the walls with the more dangerous stuff off to the side under stasis.

“Perfect,” Harry practically purred at the sight, his eyes alight with the desire to get working.

He easily slipped into the old routine of cutting, dicing, and mixing up ingredients for multiple potions at the same time. His first focus was a cauldron of Body Adjustment Potion. The name was a slight misnomer as it had been invented for those put under difficult physical environments that did long-term damage to their bodies. In Salazar's time it was essential for warriors coming back after a hard-fought war or those put to the pits without their magic. Harry wanted its slow healing abilities to fix everything the Dursleys had put him through, the same reason why the potion had been Salazar's first ever successful brewing.

Once taken, Harry's body would begin to change into how it was supposed to be at his current age and spend the next twelve moons fixing what was needed. No more weakened bones, no more dodgy eyesight. It was all be done subtly to keep from arousing attention.

Harry didn't bother making anything for the scars since he considered them badges of his success at surviving.

A second cauldron was started for the precursor to Polyjuice Potion. Using Salazar's memories, Harry had compared what Hermione had explained when she brewed the modern version and couldn't believe the changes. The original potion lasted a full six hours and relied on a person's magic in creating the correct form for the drinker to take. Essentially taking the potential of a Glamour Charm and turning it into a physical change. It would be how his older 'cousin' would be getting a new wardrobe later in the summer.

Strangely enough, the potion was invented as an Age Adjusting Potion. It was often used by people wanting to see what their future child spouses would look like, what they would like at an older age, or attempting to relive some of their lost years. The glamour aspect had been found out later. The fact that the potion was tied to age meant that the drinker couldn’t appear to be someone the same age as themselves.

As far as Harry could tell, the changed recipe appeared to have forsaken the six hours lasting time for a far longer brewing process and easier usage.

“Hair of your target,” Harry scoffed as he carefully diced some belladonna to go into the two cauldrons for poisons. “In my day it was the mental focus that made the change. And a much smoother shift back too. Now it's just grab a bit of your enemy and swallow. Bah!”

It also meant someone had to come along and invent two separate ageing and de-ageing potions when there was a perfectly acceptable one that could do both.

Harry didn't notice that he was systematically ripping apart every error he could find in his past two years of Potions. From Snape's terrible attempts at being a teacher, to the way some of the potions were put together, no flaw was too small to be ignored.

“As for that useless Shrinking Solution _Snape_ gave for homework,” he groused, moving on to start making general combat level healing potions. “What rubbish is that? How are students going to learn when they're not given a _real_ challenge to understand? But of course, it actually is a challenge since that bloody wanker doesn't teach!”

The rest of the night followed a similar routine as Harry worked at a pace that would have stunned a non-Awakened Hermione and caused the constantly-cursed Potions Master to faint from disbelief.

The long-forgotten Polyjuice and Body Adjustment Potions would take the rest of the week to finish. Sal was annoyed that without a modern-day werewolf, he was unable to get back into his attempts to ease the pain of Lycanthropy. He had been disgusted when he had come across Damocles Belby's Wolfsbane creation. The only reason it worked was it put the wolf under so much mental torture that it wasn't capable of fully taking control during the change.

As well as for every moon the potion was used, it would take three more for the transformation to not be at such an increased level of agony.

The fact that the Wolfsbane appeared to be a corrupted version of his notes to ease his daughter's affliction meant some of Salazar’s private works had survived the centuries. That it was an older version and the one that he had dismissed immediately meant that this Belby was an idiot of the highest order.

_The sooner I get myself a wolf, the sooner I can make sure the disease hasn't transmuted beyond my base potion's abilities to help_.

Harry, fuelled by his tea that Dobby kept topped up, moved out of his Potions lab and immediately set about working on his homework. Since he was still irate over the idiocy of his Potions teacher, he decided that venting his spleen towards the man would help.

Which resulted in a homework piece that only had three paragraphs about the Shrinking Solution and a foot and a half dissecting the man's lack of actual teaching, why this lack made such a piece of homework the horror it actually was, and then finished with a comprehensive breakdown of how to teach the Potion and what would have been a much better homework if that that knowledge had actually been taught. Harry finished with a post-script informing Snape that he could also provide a copy of said theoretical homework if the man was so insecure over what Harry had provided as to require proof.

Saying Harry was pleased with the finished product of his intellectual rant would be like saying Salazar had a thing for snakes. Both statements being technically true while also being far off the mark of reality. It was a much happier Boy-Who-Lived who moved on to his next homework with a hum on his tongue and smile on his lips.

.

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OoOoO

.

.

_4th July 1993_

The next week passed smoothly for Harry. He spent much of his time working on the rest of his homework and brewing, finishing up the days with meditations that allowed him to get a proper feel for how his core was reacting. Much to his surprise, its erratic state had settled down and the merger with Salazar's core was progressing nicely. Apparently the Parsel Magic had been as damaging as he had concluded, and he theorised that it would only take until his birthday before he could successfully use or have active magic used on him. He decided that a good present to himself would be visiting Luna to Awaken Rowena. He would then need to wait a full year before he Awakened either of the others.

The two important potions were finished. Harry put the original Polyjuice under stasis and knocked back the Body Adjustment with glee.

“Master Harry!” Dobby cried out in alarm even before he popped into the room. “Professor Whiskers bes outside trying to get in.”

Harry swore at the news. He'd been hoping to avoid facing off against Dumbledore until he picked up his rings but somehow the old man had found him.

“Stasis everything up, Dobby,” he commanded as he stalked from the bedroom. Once clear from anything his magic could negative influence, he used his wand to quickly clean his clothes. Thankfully there was only a mild irritation from the magic. “And use an illusion to make it look like everything is how it was originally.”

“Yes, sir!” Dobby snapped to the follow the instructions and Harry only opened the door when the elf gave him the go ahead.

“Oh, hello, Headmaster,” Harry beamed in his most innocent voice, ignoring the wand the old man had been waving around the room's Elven protections. “I didn't know anyone knew I was here.”

Dumbledore took stock of Harry’s change in hair colour and missing scar with a long blink of surprise. Then he was beaming his grandfatherly smile.

“Ah, Harry, my boy,” the Headmaster’s eye merrily twinkled. “I have my ways of keeping track of you.”

_Not tracking charms. I had a Hogwarts elf remove everything before I left the castle._ Harry thought only to feel his body go cold. _Blood monitoring. The bastard has some of my blood!_

“May I come in, Harry?” The Headmaster asked, completely oblivious to the anger rising in the boy standing in front of him. “I feel we must talk in private.”

“Certainly, sir,” Harry stepped away from the door and turned his back on the man, casually walking to the table while his instincts prepared for an attack. There was only the soft sound of the door closing. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Dumbledore conjured a rather tacky chair that suggested at strong feelings of inadequacies. It was created near Harry and the man then stared at him for a few minutes. Harry waited, prepared to out-silence the man for as long as he needed to get some answers, but apparently it wouldn't be necessary.

“We've spoken about your mother's protection, have we not?” Dumbledore rhetorically asked, giving a heavy sigh. “What I had not told you was that when I placed you with the Dursleys, it passed that protection onto the very house itself. For as long as you call the place your mother's blood dwells home, you cannot be touched nor harmed by Voldemort.”

Suddenly Sebastian's rant in the Chamber about useless Blood Wards made sense. Only for that realisation to then be derailed by Dumbledore's confession of being the one to put him with the Dursleys. His emotions spiked and with it his emotional magic that brought the familiar pain. Harry used the burning in his nerves to focus his thoughts and push away his anger.

“My reason for visiting you, Harry, is because these protections have not been charging as they should have done,” Dumbledore continued. “This told me that you were no longer at Privet Drive in order to reinforce their power.”

_You've been charging Blood Wards_ off _my magic?!?_ Harry could only blink at the scale of the man's stupidity. Such a situation would actually result in more accidental magic happening as his magic was pulled off him. _Which added to the beatings, you useless bag of bones._

“Sir,” his calm voice was in direct opposition to the ranting going on behind his Occlumency shields. “I've never called that place home. I was never treated well enough to have that place become one.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore sighed once more. “I knew you would go through some rough years but the protections...”

Harry stopped the old man with a raised palm and needed to take a steadying breath. Four different arguments came and went as he looked for the best way to handle the moron in front of him.

“With respect, Professor. I believe the problem is a misunderstanding on your part,” Harry pointed out, causing the Headmaster's bushy eyebrows to raise in surprise. “You're a product of your time, sir. When you grew up, an unloved child would still be given room and board.”

“Indeed,” Came the confused response.

“I was given a cupboard under the stairs, made to do all the cooking and cleaning by the time I could stand, and beaten black, blue and _red_ , by both Vernon and Dudley,” Dumbledore had the good grace to pale as Harry explained just how rough his years had been. “My head was bashed in by a frying pan I made the mistake of dropping after washing up. When I messed up making tea, my hands had boiling water poured over them as punishment. I mixed up what had been ordered for dinner and my left arm got put to the cooker's flame until skin and muscle were melted off and my blood was cooked.

“ _Sir_ , the only reason I am alive is because of my magic. A magic they hated and did everything they could to beat out of me. I took one look at Vernon when we got back there, and realised things were about to get even _worse_. So, I ran. With Dobby's help I got out of there the same day I arrived and was here before the next morning.”

Harry had stared the Headmaster in the eyes and provided vivid images of each situation for the old man's passive Legilimency. Dumbledore had turned green by the end and was thankful for Dobby popping in a glass of cool water.

“I...I had no idea, Harry,” Dumbledore closed his eyes and Harry guessed the man was using his own mind magic to push the images away. “I was obviously remiss in not checking up on you. You are right in how I considered your childhood to be difficult. But that is not an excuse, my boy. I am truly sorry for everything you've had to suffer because of my mistakes.”

Harry felt his anger towards the man wilt at the obvious remorse. He still didn't trust to idiot.

“You've obviously been healthy and happy here,” Dumbledore continued after a heavy pause. “How about you continue this arrangement and we can work out something better for next year and beyond?”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry gave a real smile of relief and watched the man rise from his chair. He had seemingly aged decades since he entered the room.

“I understand Miss Granger is currently holidaying with her family in France,” the Headmaster said, partially speaking to himself. “It will also be announced that the Weasleys have won the Daily Prophet's Grand Prize Draw. I wouldn't put it past Molly to take the family away to visit one of her sons. I'm sure both will be back before school begins and would be extremely happy to visit you then.”

“That's fine, sir. I have lots of homework and reading to keep me busy.”

“Indeed. Perhaps you could ease an old man's curiosity, Harry?” Harry nodded to the question and the twinkle returned if only a little. “Why a double room?”

“Hermione, Professor,” Harry said with a shy smile. “I was hoping to convince her to stay with me for a bit before September.”

Dumbledore laughed his way out of the room and said something that suspiciously sounded like “Young love” before closing the door. Harry's smile faded as he pressed fingertips to his temples to lock back up the terrible memories he had shared.

“Master Harry Sir,” Dobby said as he popped in with food, a bottle of Butter-beer and a pre-bought headache potion. “You bes taking it easy today, Master Harry. Bad memories bes making Master Harry ill.”

The boy looked fondly at the elf and let his gratitude show at being cared for by such a good friend. Dobby's eyes filled with tears before he popped away.

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OoOoO


	3. A Snake Finds its Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Alliances begin to be reforged by Harry as he lays the groundwork for a brand new world.

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

A Snake Finds its Raven

 

_31 st July 1993_

The week following Dumbledore's surprise visit to the Leaky Cauldron had seen the Daily Prophet's front page screaming with two headlines that affected Harry.

The first was a photo of the smiling faces of familiar redheads. Harry, still dirty blond and with his scar covered, enjoyed a hearty breakfast in the Cauldron's main room as he read Arthur's quote about visiting Egypt to see Bill. For someone who understood the importance of family, he could fully understand the trip. Yet there was another part that couldn't get past the utter waste of galleons when the family had financial difficulties.

The winnings were seven _hundred_ galleons, easily enough to cover the majority of both Ron and Ginny's OWL educational needs with some left over for the twins. Or even covering the twins and Ron while the family used their own earnings for little Ginny.

Harry sighed in disappointment at the financial mismanagement, already imagining Ron's reaction to his own new clothing and equipment.

“Hmm... I wonder how Whiskers knew,” he had mused, not wanting thoughts of jealous prats to ruin his breakfast. Harry had fallen in love with Dobby's name for manipulative man.

A few days after the Weasley's big announcement had seen a completely different face glaring out from the page. It showed a picture of a deranged looking man by the name of Sirius Black and warned everyone about the madman's escape from Azkaban.

Harry shivered at the news of the nightmare place still being used. He had read the Family Grimoire's tale of the origins of the Dementors and made a mental note to work on both the Patronus protection and its far deadlier version his bloodline's progenitor had created. There was no way he would be trapped against the soul sucking demons who lusted after his family’s blood.

His concern over facing dementors rather than a crazy Sirius Black came from Harry's belief in his own power. If Sirius Black had truly betrayed his parents and came after him, he would show the man just why Salazar Slytherin was a name to fear.

The sum total of Harry's reaction to the Sirius Black was a small note sent off to Dumbledore promising not to go anywhere else but Diagon. After that it was a simple matter of including sword practice in his evening routines.

His homework was all completed, a lot of the smaller potions and poisons bottled and hidden away, and he had even been making a rather large dent in his Flourish purchases. Most of the tomes were used to find out how much magic had changed since his life as Salazar as well as catching up on as many of the newer social customs as he could. The results were a mixed bag.

Salazar had been grateful that the majority of social etiquette appeared to have been simply updated for modern times rather than changed from when he had lived. There were only two main differences since the Time of the Founders; Whatever was best for the Ministry and those in charge was what got passed. Anything strange, different, or unique was outlawed as much as possible.

The other disappointment came in finding out how little was taught to anyone at OWL level and below. Subjects Salazar had taught to his young students were now only touched upon two years before they left Hogwarts. Entire branches of magic were being denied to impressionable minds and the former teacher was not amused.

The self-study kept Harry busy until his birthday rolled around. He was surprised to see the Weasley's owl Errol being carried through his room's window by Hedwig and a Hogwarts owl. He quickly and carefully put the exhausted bird on the perch and opened the package.

A birthday card and two notes slipped out. The first was a cut-out of the Prophet article explaining the Weasley's win and Harry scrunched it up as soon as he realised what it was. The second was a note from Ron.

_Harry,_

_Harry birthday mate!_

_It's brilliant here in Egypt. You wouldn't believe some of the curses these old Egyptian wizards put on the tombs that Bill's been showing us. The last one was real nasty with mutant skeletons of Muggles who had broken in and mum wouldn't let Ginny in to see them. For some reason Ginny seemed happy about that. Mental, I tell you._

_I couldn't believe it when dad won the Draw. They promise that there's still going to be enough after the holiday to buy me a new wand for next year. Wicked, right?_

_We should be back about a week before term starts and then we'll go to London to get new books and my wand. Any chance of meeting up?_

_Don't let those Muggles get you down!_

_Ron._

_PS._ _Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week._

Harry looked up to stare into Hedwig's eyes and scoffed at what he had read.

“Can you believe this, girl?” He waved the letter in case she didn't know exactly what he was talking about. “'Having a brilliant time, won't be back until a week before school. My sister, who was possessed by a dark wizard and woke up in the Chamber of Secrets, is scared of tombs. Weird that, but I'm getting a new wand so it's all good. Hope you aren't getting the shit kicked out of you too badly and you can smile as your blood pools on the floor.' Bloody idiot.”

He ranted off his own interpretation of Ron's letter and Hedwig hooted and nodding in the right places to show her agreement. Harry found a second, smaller note wrapped around a Sneakoscope that he immediately threw onto the bed without a second glance. Instead, he carefully took Hedwig's delivery and smiled when he realised who it was from.

Hermione's letter was a much more enjoyable to read since it actually asked him questions while describing what she had been up to in France. He laughed when she admitted to adding an extra two foot of parchment to the History of Magic's limit and was reminded of days gone by when Helga's attempts to plan out Hogwarts threatened to take longer than its actual construction had.

Her present of a Broomstick Servicing Kit brought another smile to his lips. While Salazar could never get over the need for control enough to enjoy a broom, Harry's sense of freedom when flying had only increased by the merging. He vowed to spend time before September working over his Nimbus.

The last delivery ended up being from both Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. The Monster Book of Monsters surprised him and managed to scuttle under the bed before he could react.

“Dobby!” He called out with a little urgency and the elf quickly popped him. This time he was wearing a florescent green ninja outfit. “There seems to be a book of Monsters hiding under my bed. You wouldn't happen to know what that's about would you?”

“Dobby bes knowing!” Dobby nodded wildly with a very feral grin. “Booksy be book for Master Harry's Care class. You bes stroking booksy's spine to keep booksy calm. Dobby bes hearing this from Hogwarts elves.”

Harry could only blink at the information and groaned, knowing that it meant his half-giant friend was now the COMC teacher. _The school really has gone to the Cerberus since we died._ He thought.

“I've got a visit to the goblins that's long overdue, Dobs,” he explained to the eager elf. “And then I'm going to visit a very good friend of mine. If you could, please make sure that book is calm and under control for when I get back and don't release the stasis charms on my potions.”

“Yes, sir, Master Harry sir!” Harry gave a smile and left the bedroom without a look back. If he had, he would have seen Dobby trying to sneak up on his bed ready to karate chop the book into submission.

Harry had dressed reasonably smart without any of his flashier outfits as he knew goblins were a warrior culture. The High Society airs and graces of the Wizarding World were actually in direct opposition to the way goblins, even modern ones, acted and the more pompous the wizard, the more difficulties they would find when dealing with the beings. Harry's only addition was Sal’s sword ready at his hip under a human only notice-me-not charm.

Salazar's warrior mask, forged alongside Godric in bloody battles and horrific wars, slipped into place as he approached the large bank. His eyes were cold by the time he stepped past the doors and up to the first teller he saw, uncaring about pushing in front of the wizard being seen.

**_“Teller. I have words to discuss with my Account Manager. You will inform him that Scion Potter has come to take up his ring and find out how much of his gold has been wasted. If you don't, I'll gut you were stand and your successor will have the chance to earn my respect.”_ **

The bank floor went deathly quiet. The wizards and witches were struck dumb by a young boy using the guttural words of Garak-da-Ruc while the goblins were shocked at the only promise of violence allowed within Gringotts.

It was a misunderstanding that said Wizarding kind weren't allowed to raise a weapon against a goblin within Gringotts. They weren't allowed to raise _wands_ against the more weapon orientated race and it was Wizards fault for not knowing how to use anything else with any true degree of skill.

**_“I am unarmed,”_** The teller said back in a much more subdued tone than he could have used. Harry smirked at how much he had put the goblin on the back foot. **“ _It would not be honourable to use a blade, even one as weak as whatever you are carrying, on an unarmed goblin.”_**

**_“No goblin is unarmed! Or did your parents see you as so unworthy they didn't wrap your new-born fingers around the handle of your first dagger?”_ **

The mention of the extremely personal ritual snapped the teller out of his funk and he quickly rose to lead Harry deeper into the bank. The wizard who had been served looked on in anger as Harry was given preferential treatment.

The other tellers and guards followed the boy's movements in awe. Only the closest of Friends to the Nation had ever heard of the First Strike, let alone understood it happened within a child's first hours. It had been centuries since a human with such knowledge walked the halls of Gringotts.

The teller took Harry down several corridors until they reached a room with the name _Potter_ etched in both Garak-da-Ruc and English. Salazar smiled, knowing that the double name written in the Language of the People meant the Potters were intimately tied to the goblin Nation in some way.

“Yes?” The goblin inside barked and the teller opened the door, clearly planning to warn him about Harry. Harry had no intentions of letting _that_ happen and pushed the door open with a bang.

**_“I'm Harry James Potter and I've come to find out how much of my money you've been skimming off the top without making me profit!”_** Harry barked in mock fury. The Account Manager took a moment to realise what was happening and grinned as only a goblin could. The sight causing Harry's eyes to sparkle with their own amusement.

**_“If you truly cared about your gold, you would have got your Magical Guardian to answer our missives about your accounts!”_ **

**_“My Magical Guardian is an old man more concerned with suckling at the teat of a three-legged goat than looking after my interests!”_ **

The goblin opened his arms wide as though to say 'well there you go' and Harry's laughter bounced off the stone walls. He dropped without ceremony on the single chair facing his Account Manager and switched to English. Neither one noticed the teller scuttling away.

“As it's my thirteen birthday, I've come to find out how much damage Dumbledore has committed to the Potter finances,” Harry explained. “As well as something of a more delicate matter.”

“Not as bad as it could have been but enough to make a young goblin cry,” the goblin answered in as much detail as he could while reaching into a draw to remove the ritual bowl. “I am Account Manager DaggerClaw and you will need to prove you are who you say you are.”

“Of course,” Harry shrugged, secretly looking forward to what would happen when he did.

“You are aware that the Ministry say you must be seventeen before achieving your Lordship?” DaggerClaw asked as he offered the ritual blade handle first. Harry immediately took it without blinking at the sight of the incredibly sharp blade

“And you are aware that while that's Ministry Policy, it can't actually be written into the Laws of the Land,” Harry retorted as he gripped the knife's edge with his left hand and pulled hard with the right.

“Just as long as we're both aware of the situation,” DaggerClaw smirked back, pleased that the boy showed no weakness in the blooding.

The special connection between bowl and knife caused the latter to pulse with healing magic once the runes carved into the former flashed blue. Harry immediately gave back the blade, handle first of course, and relaxed in his chair.

He had laughed for almost five minutes straight when he had read about new Lords gaining their rings at seventeen. The Laws of the Land were magically carved into the very essence of Wizarding Society and could only be changed by Royal Decree. Everything else was the Ministry and Wizengamot taking unilateral decisions to build a society of their own design.

DaggerClaw used a special quill to soak up the blood and then pressed the tip against a blank parchment. The magic of the ritual continued, pulling forth the blood from the quill and causing it to write Harry's true identity and heritage out. Harry knew what it would say.

_Harry James Potter, Salazar Antioch Slytherin reincarnate_.

He smirked when he saw DaggerClaw blink at the parchment. Three blinks and then three more when the goblin's eyes rose to stare at Harry in wonder. Harry could see that the goblin was now putting Harry's attitude and ability to speak Garak-da-Ruc fluently into its proper context.

**_“My Lord, this is beyond my level. I must take this higher. Excuse me.”_ **

Harry doubted DaggerClaw even realised he had slipped back into his own tongue. The goblin practically raced out of the room and Harry was able to last until the door closed before laughing his head off.

Almost ten minutes later and a much calmer Harry was alert when the door opened and four goblin guards entered the room. His hand dropped to his sword and he was about to draw the weapon when an elder goblin entered just ahead of DaggerClaw.

“Lord Salazar, my name is Ragnuk III,” the new goblin stated.

Harry gave a warrior's salute to the Chief of Clans. His weapon hand was fisted and pressed into its opposite shoulder, the wrist tilted as though holding a downward facing knife.

**_“Ragnuk, Chief of Clans, it is an honour. I knew the originator of your name.”_ **

“Indeed you did, young Salazar,” Ragnuk smiled at the greeting and waved Harry to take a seat as he moved behind the desk. DaggerClaw stood off to the side, holding the naming parchment as though it was pure mithril. “And my grandfather believed my line should continue with the name until you or your fellow Founders returned to us.”

“It took a little longer than I had originally expected,” Harry admitted, folding one leg over the other as he regarded the leader of the Goblin Nation. “I truly believed it would only be around four hundred years between Awakenings.”

“We are most happy to have you back, my Lord,” Ragnuk admitted. “The world is not what it was, and we have been watching the Potter family for your return. I admit that I despaired when you, as Harry, disappeared from the Wizarding World. It was only the Magics proving your continual existence that eased my fears.”

“The world is not as kind to your people as it was when I died,” Salazar noted with a frown. “Once my immediate issues are over, I'll do what I can to bring your good people back to where they deserve to be.”

Ragnuk nodded in thanks while DaggerClaw looked ready to faint at what was happening in his office.

“You will be taking up your rings?” The Chief of Clans asked.

“I must,” Harry admitted with a sigh. “Albus Dumbledore appears to have a far too vested interest in controlling my new life. I also detest what my old name has become and need to right the many wrongs history lay at my feet.”

“Shall we begin with the Potter ring then?”

“Why not my Slytherin one, Ragnuk?” Harry asked with genuine curiosity. “I only need the ring and a trip to the vault whereas DaggerClaw and I must begin rebuilding the Potter legacy.”

The goblin's feral grin would have truly been frightening to someone unused to their kind.

“As promised, my family have been dealing with the Slytherin, Raven's Claw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Accounts while letting the Ministry believe they've gone cold,” was the sly explanation. “In this example, a certain percentage of the Potter money has always gone into the Slytherin Accounts while funds went the other way if your family faced difficulties. I assure you, Snake Lord, I will sit with DaggerClaw and work out the best way of spreading the wealth to make sure both reach their zenith.”

Harry couldn't help it and laughed at how devious the goblins were and his brief time in Gringotts already had him feeling ready to take on the world. DaggerClaw could only wonder at how he could have missed the influence of his accounting figures.

Once Harry had eventually calmed down, he bled again into the bowl and began the oath.

“I, Harry James Potter, do here, this day, take up the mantle of Lord Potter as is my right. I do so swear to uphold the House and all its responsibilities. So I say, so I swear, so mote it be.”

The blood vanished to reveal a golden ring that was slightly chunky for Harry's tastes. The rampant Thestral of the Potter crest was one of the last obvious legacies to the Peverells and part of the secret link between House Slytherin and House Potter. He slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand and the ring resized, flooding his body with Potter magics. Thankfully it only tingled rather than hurt.

“Very good, Lord Potter. Before I came here, I took the liberty of containing the Announcement Magics. When you are ready to reveal yourself, simply send three pulses of magic through the ring and the Wizengamot will be notified,” Ragnuk explained as he pushed the ritual bowl aside.. “You should know that the wizards will refuse your ability to take up your seat. You'll need to find a worthy Proxy.”

Harry nodded, thankful for the goblin's foresight, and eagerly waited for the next step. Suddenly Ragnuk blinked as though realising he hadn't asked the important question.

“My Lord Salazar, do you know about the others?”

“Alive, I assure you, friend goblin. All four of us are at Hogwarts,” Harry promised with a slight smile. “I'll be Awakening Rowena as soon as I leave here but she's a year younger than I so can't take up her ring. Between the two of us, we can assess when to Awaken the others who are actually in my year.”

A weight seemed to slide off the goblin leader's shoulders at the news. Ragnuk took a deep breath and flicked out his wrist to throw off an incredibly powerful illusion. All eyes were drawn to the revealed mithril bracelet from which four small trinkets dangled.

“You know what to do, my Lord,” Ragnuk said, offering his arm across the desk.

Harry smiled at the sight of their ritual bowls. One in particular appeared to shimmer a vibrant green and he immediately took hold of it between his thumb and finger. A powerful pulse of magic later and the spell keeping the bowl connected to the bracelet broke. Salazar quickly placed it on the table where it immediately grew to full size.

The Slytherin ritual bowl was covered in different looking snakes that moved when someone wasn't directly watching them. The edge of the bowl was carved by Salazar's own hands into the shape of Jormungandr encircling the world.

DaggerClaw collapsed against the wall at seeing the ancient artefact and Ragnuk reverently handed the knife back to Harry.

“I, Salazar Antioch Peverell-Slytherin, do here, this day, take up the mantle of Lord Slytherin as is my right by blood, will and magic. I do so swear to uphold my honour. So I say, so I swear, so mote it be.”

The thin silver band that his blood revealed had a perfectly circular emerald encircled by two sleeping snakes. Harry looked down at his ring and gave a sigh of anticipation and relief wearing it once more.

“This might be a little bit different to the last one, my friend,” he warned before slipping it onto his wedding finger. Immediately Harry convulsed as the ring and its enchantments synchronised with his magic. A vibrate aura, the colour of the Avada Kedavra curse, enveloped Harry.

Salazar was the first of his Family name and with that honour came Family Magics. While anyone of the Family might have access to the Magics, it is the rings which are open doorways into their full power. This power was now coursing through Harry's body and wrapping around the dual-cores inside him. The power gave a sharp metaphysical _twist_ that snapped them together.

He was now aware of the presence of his personal wand down in his vault, eagerly waiting for his hand to take it up again. His sword sang with joy at being on his hip and its song now contained the taste of permanent death through the absorbed basilisk venom. Somewhere, just off the edge of Harry's awareness, was the waiting presence of his battle-staff ready to be summoned to his side.

The watching goblins saw the intense glow of the aura and then a shape began to impose over Harry's body. It was that of a man looking to be in his late twenties with shoulder length raven hair. He had a slim, assassin's build and the sharp Avada eyes grew slitted as the pressure of magic grew. They knew they were witnessing the legend of the Snake Lord. The vision and visible aura faded away to leave only Harry behind.

“What a kick!” He grinned weakly at the shocked goblins. He didn't know that his eyes were still ablaze with magic and the guards were shifting nervously at the dangerous radiating off him.

Harry shook himself down and pushed the power rush away, using his iron will to force his magic under control. The goblins breathed easier as heaviness in the air eased.

“Dobby,” He called out while allowing the goblins to regain their equilibrium. The elf's eyes were wide with wonder at feeling the changes in his Master Harry. “Could you bring the two special cases?”

Three pops later and Dobby had vanished while Harry was handing over Vernon’s suitcase as well as the charmed trunk containing Slinky’s dead body.

“The trunk contains a shrunken thousand-year-old basilisk that I’d like the Nation to render down. Thirty percent of the carcass is to be put in my Slytherin vault and you can sell the rest at a sixty-forty split with mine going in a new vault along with the cash once it’s converted into galleons.”

The command was given as though there was no question Gringotts would do exactly as Salazar said. Ragnuk immediately handed over the two cases to DaggerClaw whose eyes gleamed at the potential amount talked about. The goblin did a quick tally and estimated a potential of over three million galleons that were now at his fingertips to make returns off.

“It will be done, Lord Salazar,” Ragnuk declared. “Would you like to see your vault now?”

Harry nodded and, after a farewell and promise to DaggerClaw to speak to him soon, they headed down to the deepest part of the bank. The cart ride was long and twice they swung past one of the infamous dragons. Harry laughed when he heard its grumbles.

“It's wishing the carts provided what non-magicals call fast food,” he grinned at the bemused Ragnuk. “It wants to be able to pick off a tasty treat as it whizzes by and is very upset it's not allowed to.”

The roar of the goblin Chief's laughter followed them the rest of the way to the Vaults of the Founders. The cart came to a stop near an underground river that separated the chart from the vaults. A solid looking stone bridge connected the two sides and Harry lazily jumped out of the cart. Ragnuk, wisely, stayed where he was safe.

The still waters near the bridge rippled and then the large head of a Sea Dragon rose out from the cool liquid.

_~~“Hello, Spike,”~~_ Harry happily hissed to the first guardian. The beast in question took stock of the strange boy that knew its name and then reared back when it sensed the familiar magic.

_~~“Salazar? It's been so long, I've missed you!”~~_

_~~“And I you, Spike. Do you still know the way into the Black Lake?”~~_

The serpent nodded its head happily, like a very large and wet dog, and Harry smiled. He promised to visit if the Sea Dragon swam the distance. Spike lowered his head to get a scratch behind its nose ridge and then happily sunk into the water to immediately begin the swim north.

“Are all Parselmouths capable of that, Lord Salazar?” Ragnuk asked in awe.

“Alas no, my friend,” Harry called back as he walked across the bridge. “Some are only capable of speaking to the snakes and can't understand the dragons at all.”

He moved quickly down the stone corridor and turned left when it split off into five directions. The middle path led to their combined vault while the other four were their personal ones. For Salazar's, Harry was required to be bitten by a stone basilisk to have his blood and magic tested.

He tried not to think about how Godric's protection was an immortal Nemean Lion that had to be wrestled. His friend had always been a fan of the ancient stories.

Once inside his vault, Harry moved past all the gold and gems without even caring how much larger the piles had grown since his past life. It was the back of the vault and the workstation that was his goal. Sitting on the large oak surface were the things that were the most personal to Salazar and those he had charmed to return there upon his death.

A basilisk-hide battle outfit, stained black, was laid out at one end of the table. To either side was a basilisk-hide cloak and a pair of basilisk boots, with all three heavily charmed to adapt to whatever body shape he possessed at the time.

On the other end of the table was a basilisk scale wand holster, bound to him, and charmed so the wand couldn't be summoned. The wand lying next to it was made of Blackthorn and covered in intricately carved snakes with a fang and venom from a basilisk as its core.

Harry quickly disrobe and pulled on his battle armour. It resized to hug his body like a second skin, allowing him to put his clothes back on with no one the wiser of what he was wearing beneath. He strapped the holster to his inner right wrist and the old wand let loose a flare of excitement when he picked it up. He was smiling as soon as it was in his grasp and it was an even better fit than the holly wand. A quick search for a second holster for his left wrist meant he was capable of double casting. A quick swish to throw the basilisk cloak over his shoulders and he was ready to leave.

That was until he caught sight of another area of his vault and Harry Slytherin – _or am I Salazar Potter?_ \- smirked. He strode over to the area that had been penned away and looked down at the magically sleeping basilisk. Esmeralda was the mother of Slinky and Salazar's true familiar. She had been with him for years and the Snake Lord had only put her into stasis when he went after his son Salestine.

Harry's smile wilted when he saw that Esmeralda wasn't alone. Safely tucked away in the corner of the bed was an all too familiar crimson runespoor.

“What the hell is Moirai doing here?” Harry demanded to know, wondering what could have forced Rowena to leave her own familiar in his vault. “Did you See something, Ro? Did you know I'd be the first one to Awaken and come for you?”

Harry sighed, knowing he wouldn't have any answers until he went to Ottery St. Catchpole. It was with the greatest of care that he reached down to withdraw Esmeralda and she began to stir the moment she was clear of the ward.

_~~“My Bonded, is that you?”~~_ She hissed sleepily, and he gave her a familiar lopsided grin.

_~~“Hello, Esmeralda. It's been a long, long time, my little one. But I'm back now and need you more than ever.”~~_

The basilisk immediately slithered up his arm to curl around his neck in a loving embrace. Their connection passed on more information that he would have otherwise been happy to share.

_~~“You **do** need me, my Bonded! It is time for the serpent to strike back.”~~_

_~~“Do you mind if we take Moirai with us?”~~_ Harry indicated the slumbering runespoor with a wave of the hand. _~~“I'm going to bring back Rowena and they could do with each other's company.”~~_

Esmeralda hissed her agreement and once again Harry carefully lifted a snake free from the bed. This time he let his familiar do the explaining as it was always a headache talking to the three-headed serpent even at the best of times. The image Harry cast as he stalked out of the vault was one of the true Lord Slytherin and it cause Ragnuk to be reminded of years past.

The goblin had been raised on the stories of the mythical warrior wizard who stood back-to-back with goblins while his friends risked life and blood to hold back wizards from destroying goblin homes. Although the boy in front of him was only thirteen, he carried himself like a Master of War, and Ragnuk felt his blood stirring at the sight.

“Lord Salazar, I must ask. What will you tell people when they see you so?”

“Simple, my friend,” Harry smirked as he slid into the cart. “After all the accusations of being the Heir of Slytherin during my past year, I came asking if there was any truth to it. Hours later found me taking up both rings and exploring Salazar's vault where I decided to revel in the irony of having denied what was actually true.”

Ragnuk laughed heartedly at the mix of truth and lies. The two were silent the rest of the way to the surface where Harry then turned serious.

“Chief Ragnuk, I have something to tell you that I should have done before now.” Harry's tone was grave and immediately put the Chief of Clans on alert. “I only hope that you forgive me for not bringing it to your attention before now.”

Ragnuk immediately took Harry into his office where the guards had taken up their protective detail once more. Rather than sit, Harry decided to stand at parade rest to show the seriousness of his words.

“First, the simple things. I am sure that Albus Dumbledore is blocking most of my mail and screening the rest. As such, you would be better off addressing everything to Harry Antioch Slytherin, a suitably private name that my enemies will not think of looking for.”

Ragnuk nodded and waited for the big reveal.

“I was forced to kill my pet basilisk because it was being used to attack the students of my beloved school. A soul shard had possessed a first year and was controlling him.”

All five goblins growled at the revelation of such twisted soul magic and Harry nodded his agreement.

“You've already worked out that it was connected to a Horcrux. I managed to get out of the shard how many of the foul objects the insane wizard had planned on making. The wizard in question is one Tom Marvolo Riddle, commonly known as Voldemort.”

Ragnuk's explosion of graphic curses and descriptions of Riddle's uselessness in life, love, and ability to go toilet would have had Harry laughing if he wasn't feeling guilty about the information. As it was both Esmeralda and Moirai were hissing up a storm with their chuckles.

“I assume, Lord Salazar, that you believe one of these foul things might be in our bank?”

“The diary that controlled the student was slipped to her by Lucius Malfoy,” Sal shrugged as though to say 'take that for what it's worth' and Ragnuk followed his thinking easily enough.

“I promise you, Gringotts will search through every vault to find out if such a thing is here,” this time it was the goblin who seemed hesitant. “Do not feel guilty for your late notice, my Lord. For there is something _I_ have been remiss in not telling _you_.”

Harry blinked and waited.

“Your heritage parchment came back with you also being the Heir to House Black.”

“The same House Black that Sirius Black, recent escapee of Azkaban, is from?” Harry confirmed.

“It was Sirius Black who named you his heir,” Ragnuk explained. “A naming that happened not long before that Halloween.”

Harry pinched his nose as he felt a headache beginning to build. Esmeralda hissed comforting words, but it was Moirai that provided the obvious, yet still shocking, answer.

“Sssirius Black did not betray my parentsss,” Harry hissed in anger, the air around him crackling with emotional magic. “One doesss not name a child an heir if one isss going to betray them to their enemiesss.”

“That is our thinking as well, Snake Lord. It is the belief of our spies within the Ministry that Sirius is heading towards Hogwarts and so the Minister will surround your school with Dementors.”

This time it was Harry who let loose a barrage of curses in Parseltongue. The very idea of having the foul creatures near his school, near his students, caused the man inside a boy's body to see red.

“He isssn't coming for me,” he managed to snarl, forcing himself back into English. “Not if I'm hisss heir. Thank you, Chief of Clansss Ragnuk, you've given me much to think about.”

They exchanged nods and Harry spun around to stride with purpose towards the door. Moments before exciting, he paused and looked back, all signs of anger gone and his vibrant eyes shone with mischief.

“Would you permit me to leave through a private Apparition point?” he asked with a wiggle of the hands to indicate the two large snakes draped over his upper body.

Even with the intensity of their previous conversation, Ragnuk chuckled at the reaction of the Boy-Who-Lived walking through Diagon Alley with such creatures.

“It will always be at your disposal, Lord Salazar.”

**_“May your enemies blood feed the hunger of the Earth and your clan's riches grow to the clouds, Chief Ragnuk,”_** Harry replied in thanks, giving warrior's parting to the goblin. He was gone before a response was given. After all, time was money.

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OoOoO

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_Ottery St. Catchpole_

Harry arrived with an almost silent pop close to the Burrow's wards and immediately chuckled when Esmeralda complained that his Apparition hadn't improved in the thousand years since they'd been apart. Moirai had decided to wrap himself around Harry's waist and the runespoor was in a heated debate with its three selves over the practicalities of a magical familiar using their bonded's magic to learn their own version of magical travel. It was also an old conversation and Harry left the snake to it. A simple Point Me spell for the Lovegood Residence had the Lord Slytherin taking a leisurely stroll towards his goal.

Strangely, at no point in his planning, did the idea of Luna _not_ being home when he came to visit enter his mind.

Twenty minutes later and a trip up and down a hill saw Harry faced with a rather unique looking home. He turned to look back the way he had come, imagined the strangeness that was the Burrow, and then faced the very round and very black building.

“Huh. I wonder if there's something in the water around here,” he said with amusement. He shrugged at the thought, causing Esmeralda to grumble as she resettled across his shoulders, and headed towards the giant chess piece.

As Harry moved closer to the home he spotted the dancing form of a small girl with flowing dirty-blonde hair. His heart clenched at what he was about to do, and he was torn between excitement at having his sister back to feeling bad about changing little Luna's life as drastically as he was about to.

“Hello, Harry Potter,” the silver-eyed girl in question said. Harry blinked at her sudden appearance in front of him and realised she had Rowena's ability to turn up anywhere she wanted no matter how alert you thought you were. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. You have a basilisk on your shoulders.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Luna Lovegood,” his initial smile widened when she immediately began to stroke Esmeralda without a flinch. “And I know. Esmeralda is my bonded familiar.”

The girl tilted her head to the side and a frown marred her elven features.

“I know of you, Harry Potter. Yet I also know you. I knew you were coming today,” Luna explained with a far-off gaze. “We could be very good friends, yet I know we've been friends for decades even though we're still teenagers. It's all so confusing.”

Harry's heart broke at the strength of the girl's Sight. It had taken Rowena almost too long to control her abilities and it seemed her second time through was being equally difficult.

“I can give you answers, Luna Lovegood,” he carefully promised. “But only if you can trust me to do what must be done.”

“If I don't, I will be hurt before I relearn how to smile inside,” she told him in a lost voice that brought tears to Harry's eyes. “If I do, I gain a friend and something more. I would like a true friend, Harry.”

“And you shall have one, Luna,” he proclaimed as he lightly trapped her face between his palms so he could stare deeply into her expressively large eyes. “I call to thee, Rowena Raven's Claw. Through blood, through mind and through magic I, Salazar Slytherin, call you forth through time to Awaken and become one with your Heir.”

Luna gasped when Harry began the ritual Calling. His body took on a forest green glow that became royal blue as it enveloped her body. When the last words were spoken, Salazar's magic sunk into Luna and Awakened the woman within.

He quickly caught the girl around her waist as she went stiff, her mind unravelling and being put back together with Rowena now along for the ride. Harry didn't say anything. He simply lowered them to the ground until her breathing began to settle.

“Thank you, Sal,” She quietly cried into his chest, her slender arms wrapping tightly around him as the past and present hurts overwhelmed her.

“I told you long ago I'd always come for you,” he reminded her, a hand running softly through her silky hair. “You're my sister, Ro. Through time and space, you will always be my sister.”

Gradually Luna was able to call on Rowena's experience in protecting her mind and emotions. The Seer of the Founders had been forced to develop her own brand of Occlumency to remain sane and the young girl was using it to rip apart the Loony mask she had begun wearing at her beloved school. She only pulled away from his strong embrace once she was fully in control.

“How did you Awake?” She sniffled into his offered conjured handkerchief.

“Sebastian,” he playfully spat, stretching out his legs so that he was relaxing beside her. “Voldemort created Horcruxes and one of them took control of Ginny Weasley. Riddle, that's his real name, must have corrupted Slinky when he was a student.”

“The 'original' opening of your Chamber,” she scrunched her nose up at the news of Horcruxes. Dark Soul Magic was anathema to someone with Ro's unique powers. “And you being you, thought you could talk Slinky down.”

“Oh no, I was still all Harry Potter then,” he blasted her with the full force of his lopsided grin that always set her giggling and this time was no exception. “Fawkes brought that ragged little shit down and he gave me my sword. The bugger had me convinced charging Slinky with a pointy stick was the best way of surviving.”

Luna's tinkling laughter filled the air and eased a pain in Harry's chest. As much as he loved and needed Helga, Rowena was always the one who calmed the darker side of Salazar.

“We told you that basilisk venom wasn't the way to go!” She smirked, and he sighed dramatically.

“Yes, yes. You're perfect. I honestly thought one of you would Awaken first.”

“No,” she frowned, remembering back to long lost days. “I knew as soon as you went after Salestine that you would be the one to bring the three of us back. I warned the others.”

“Before we get into anything serious, I have someone who missed you,” Harry told her, tapping his stomach for the runespoor to slide out from beneath his shirt.

“Moirai!” She squealed, scooping the large snake up and cuddling it as one would a puppy. She cooed and giggled with the runespoor, their bond allowing her to get past the need for speaking Parseltongue.

Esmeralda suddenly remembered Rowena's habit of snuggling up to Salazar's serpentine friends and quickly slid off his shoulders to hide in the nearby tall grass. Harry only smiled, basking in Ro's adorable actions. It always pleased him when he could get her to put aside her serious nature for more carefree moments.

Luna eventually calmed down and mirrored Harry's position with Moirai laying down the length of her body as though copying a pose from Renaissance paintings.

“Things are bad in this time,” she stated, and he could only nod, staring off into the summer distance.

“The school is a mess, the current Headmaster appears to be more focused on me than looking after the students, too many things about my new past make little sense, there's a potentially innocent man coming after me, and we have a soul-split dark wizard claiming to be my Heir out there ready to make a comeback.”

“Explain,” Rowena demanded, and he did. Harry went over what he knew about that Halloween, what everyone believed happened, and what he had guessed with Ragnuk earlier that day. He told her how Dumbledore had admitted to putting him with the Dursleys and enough of their treatment for her to nod and simply state “They're dead.”

Harry then moved on to how he was introduced into the Wizarding world, added in Sebastian's warnings about the Weasleys, and broke down the insanity of his first year as a student. He then filled in the details of the past year and everything he had been doing once he got settled in the Leaky Cauldron.

“The Darkness is returning, Sal,” Luna's voice telling him that she was talking about what she could See. “Somehow you have a chance to make a difference next year but the one after will be fraught with danger.”

“We can't Awaken Helga or Godric yet,” he hated it but knew it was true. “I need to see how Hermione reacts to my changes and I wouldn't dare with Godric when there are Dementors around the school. He'd declare war on the Ministry as soon as he saw them.”

“You're right,” she sighed in a tone that shared how painful the truth. “You need to wait until this year is over with before considering Helga. I can't even See when we can bring Godric back.”

Harry quickly bridged the distance between them to grasp her hand tightly in his own. “We're together, Ro. We'll get through what's to come and then we'll have those two back with us for the rest of it.”

Luna's smile was a far too familiar one and its wistful nature meant she still worried. Harry decided to spend the rest of the day making her laugh as much as he could before he went back to Diagon Alley.

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OoOoO


	4. A Snake Returns Home

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

A Snake Returns Home

 

_31 st July 1993 – Little Whinging_

A half-starved and extremely tired black Grim, buried its head in its paws and cried.

Padfoot had finally managed to dredge up the memory of Lily's sister and her far too loud husband. It was the only place he could think little Harry could have been taken to be kept away from the magical world. He found the little town in uproar and Number Four, Privet Drive covered in police tape. Fear pierced his heart only for the organ to burst in agony when he managed to find a recent paper.

 

**_Murder-Suicide! One body still missing!_ **

 

The details were gruesome. Vernon Dursley had beaten his wife to death with a cricket bat and attempted to do the same with his son. He then called the police in a moment of grief before killing himself to leave the boy at death's door trapped in a coma.

While the story was tragic, it was the details of the second boy that was the cause of Padfoot's breakdown. It seemed Petunia followed her sister's habit in using a journal, this one detailing how the Dursley family had taken in her orphaned nephew and treated him worse than an animal. Even when they finally moved him to an actual bedroom, they put locks on the door and fed him through a cat-flap. Yet now there was no sign of little Harry. Not even a body. According to the paper her last journal entry was a demented eagerness to Harry's return from his mysterious “freak school.”

Padfoot rose from his place opposite the now abandoned house and dragged himself out of Privet Drive, his pain quickly morphing into rage that would be taken out on a traitorous rat and a manipulative Headmaster. The Grim growled in anticipation only to have its dark thoughts interrupted by a rancid smell of weeks old urine.

The smell itself wasn't an unusual one for a dog to pick up. What caught the canine's attention was the very familiar scent markers embedded in the piss. Hope briefly flared in the magical’s chest as he recognised the unique mixture of James and Lily that made up his pup. It was old, incredibly faint, and there were strange scents overlapping Harry’s, but it gave the old dog hope.

He turned towards Scotland and moved with even more determination. He of the Padded-Foot would get to Hogwarts and find out if his pup survived and Merlin help two men if he hadn't.

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OoOoO

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It was a subdued Harry who got back to the Leaky Cauldron after spending his birthday with one of the two women/girls he loved. Salazar had deeply missed the other Founders when he left Hogwarts to take down his son yet there was a special place in his heart for his Raven. He enjoyed the company of the girl she had been born as this life, and he ached over the state of both her lives. They were too similar, too painful, for someone as special as she, and old rages rose up to demand action against those who had hurt her.

If it wasn't for Luna's father being on his own, Salazar would have dragged her back to the Leaky Cauldron with him until the end of the summer.

He knew he needed to relax and that he was too high-strung to brew. There was only one thing that could ease his racing thoughts almost as well as his precious potions. Sparing. With quick flicks of his wand he cleared a space in the centre of the room and held out his hand, his body tingling from the summoning.

A unique battle-staff materialised within Harry's grip. It was bone white and slightly curved, carved from the rib of Esmeralda's eight-hundred-year-old father. Its core was a long thestral hair, wrapped in two feathers. The first was from Godric's griffin familiar, the second from the Animagus raven form of Rowena's sister Morgana. The entire surface of the staff was covered in carvings of snakes with their raised scale and fangs made from teeth and claws from Helga's badgers.

It was a powerful weapon created through love and honour.

The staff immediately resized to match his current height and Harry closed his eyes to savour the connection between it and his core. Slowly, to allow his new body time to learn the moves, he put himself through the training workout that had been part of his life for decades.

The Wizarding World had grown lazy since Salazar's time in relying solely upon their wands. The Founders had their own weapons, knew how to fight to the death as a mundane, and had often used their battle-staffs as physical tools of war as much as magical ones.

As Harry became one with the staff and they spun and moved in the narrow space, he had no idea he was smirking at how many waves he would be making in the coming years.

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OoOoO

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The rest of August passed in a lazy stroll. Hedwig got exercise by passing letters between him and Ro, with some of the missives having the raven-headed boy in giggles for entire days on end. Harry was also able to show a very relieved manager of Flourish and Blott's how to calm the Monster Book of Monsters. The man was _so_ relieved he made Harry's purchases for the day on the house.

He caught sight of a brand-new type of broom by the name of Firebolt that had him itching to soar through the skies on it. The argument Harry had with himself over whether to buy the broom lasted long enough to bump into fellow Gryffindors Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Salazar even managed to keep a good conversation going with them about the merits of the Firebolt's statistics over the latest Nimbus.

The second to last week of August saw Harry 'bump' into Neville and a woman who could only be his Gran. Salazar had to force himself not to curse the woman where she stood for the way she was treating his brother. Yet again Harry was floored with how their new lives matched their own for Godric had been raised by his powerful clan chief uncle who had belittled the great Gryffindor at every chance. Running away from the arrogant shit was one of the best things his brother in all but blood could have done.

He didn't think. The moment Harry saw the scene he immediately injected himself between the two with his back to the irate woman. Harry had taken Neville's hand and was giving it a warm shake and the boy an even warmer smile. The innocuous questions were fired fast enough to pull the boy out of the funk he had instinctively fallen into.

“ _Excuse me,_ little boy, some politeness would go a long way.” the formidable Augusta Longbottom declared in shock at being dismissed by a mere child. “We were in the middle of a personal conversation.”

“Actually, Dowager Lady Longbottom, it's _Lord_ Potter, and you were in the middle of dressing down the Scion to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom,” Harry snapped back in his most aristocratic 'I'm higher in the food-chain than you' voice. He had turned to stare the woman dead in the eyes and the look clearly showed his displeasure. The retort not only brought her up in surprise but had also caught the attention of some of the other shoppers. Although Harry would bet being looked at as though you were worth less than the shit on shoes by a thirteen-year-old added to the woman's shock. “Now considering the close ties between our families, that essentially makes him my brother.”

Neville couldn't believe anyone, let along _Harry_ , was standing up for him against his Gran. To give her a public spanking had the nervous boy worried for Harry's safety until he mentioned seeing Neville as a brother. The self-confidence that his Gran was able to destroy with nought but a glance blossomed at what his house-mate was doing.

“Here is what's going to happen, Dowager Lady Longbottom,” Harry snarled, stepping into the woman's personal space. The fury and power in his Avada eyes had a woman who had stared down Ministers, entire Wizengamots, and Death Eaters without blinking taking a full step back from the young Lord. “You are going to go back to Longbottom Hall and really think about the way you treat your grandson. You will consider if such behaviour is becoming of a woman of your stature and exactly what Lord and Lady Longbottom would say if they ever came to know how you treated their son.”

The slaps continued to come. Both Longbottoms paled at the mentioning of Neville's parents with Neville worried about how Harry had found out when he never told anyone.

“ _I_ , on the other hand, will aid my brother in his Hogwarts shopping. _I_ will then be keeping an eye on both of you to find out if your behaviour to Scion Longbottom changes,” this time Harry's face morphed into a vicious grin that had those seeing it wishing they were somewhere, anywhere, else. “And if it doesn't, I will be taking Neville as a Vassal of my House until such time as he can take up his own Lordship. Have. I. Made. Myself. Clear?”

Augusta Longbottom, the Dragon Lady of the Wizengamot, nodded once at the enraged boy. The magic rolling off him had her thinking of another Potter decades ago who had stepped between her and bullying Gryffindors. While the boy was often compared to his parents, Augusta Longbottom now knew he was far more like his grandfather Charlus and she couldn’t help the shiver at that thought. She spared a tear-filled glance over his shoulder at her grandson and then Apparated away with not a single word said in reply. Harry's ire had yet to settle and he glared around at the still watching crowd.

“Get back to your shopping!” He snapped with a roar that had everyone scuttling away before those glowing eyes could focus their way.

The wind that was picking up as his words was purely a coincidence.

Salazar had to take multiple breaths to pull his rage under control. Any perceived attack at his family, namely the other three Founders, was the sure way to break his Slytherin mask. He turned to face the still silence Neville and clasped his shoulders in a familiar position for the two old friends.

“I'm sorry about that, Nev,” he offered in a friendly voice. “But I know what it's like to be talked down to by family. It's not helpful and I don't want to see you go through that.”

The _again_ stayed on his tongue as he remembered drunken nights between himself and Godric sharing their painful histories.

“Y..Yo...You really meant all that?” The Gryffindor asked the snake in lion's clothing. “Everything you said?”

“Everything,” Harry beamed, his heart lifting when Neville smiled back, and offered a hand. “Here's to being friends and brothers.”

“Friends and brothers,” Neville automatically replied in awe, not even realising that he had taken Harry's hand.

The two boys spent the rest of the day enjoy the sun and shops. Harry explained to Neville about the different electives available and that he was allowed to change them in the first few weeks if he found he didn’t like the ones he had picked. They were relaxing in Florean Fortescue's when Harry asked to see Neville perform a small transfiguration spell. Salazar simply couldn't understand why his best friend was having so much trouble with his magic in his new life.

“Wow, Nev,” Harry eyed Neville's wand in amazement. “You've really put that thing through its paces in two years.”

“Huh?” The boy in question blinked in response. He noticed Harry looking at the nicks and scratches in his wand. “Oh, this is my dad's wand. Gran said I'd be honouring his memory if I used it.”

A flurry of emotions crossed Harry's face before he could contain them and suddenly Neville saw what had made his Gran walk away without a fight.

“Mr. Fortescue!” The green-eyed boy called out as he rose, dragging Neville along for the ride while leaving their shopping bags behind. “We forgot to get something. You wouldn't mind keeping an eye on all that, would ya?”

“Not a problem, Harry,” the owner of the best ice cream in the country answered with a smile, covering their booth in a strong Notice-Me-Not charm as well as a preserving spell for the ice cream. The two had gotten close over the summer with Harry telling just enough of his past to make the old man protective of green-eyed boy.

Harry smiled in thanks and pulled a confused Neville out of the shop. Neville was quick to work out where his new friend was taking him and wondered if the day would ever stop being strange as Harry stormed into the wand store with a shout.

“Garrick? Garrick? Where are you, you crazy old bastard?”

“Mister Potter, behave yours...” The strange Wandmaker began to say as he came out from his back-room. The moment the old man caught sight of Harry, the words froze on his lips.

Harry smirked at the surprise written on the face of a man who was old when Salazar was born. Garrick Ollivander was a master Wandmaker who was _so_ good someone cursed him with an eternal life only as long as he continued to make wands. The far too many centuries of life could crash down on the man if he ceased in his passion for more than a few years.

It had taken the combined power of Salazar and Rowena to make a powerful Glamour-Fidelius cross that would allow him to set up a shop. The moment anyone thought he had been alive for too long, the protective spell would then make them consider the Ollivander behind the counter as the son of the one they knew. In return the four friends had warned the old man of their eventual return through Awakenings and he had promised to keep the materials for each of their wands in case a replacement was needed.

“Sa...Mister Potter, you've changed since I last saw you,” the Wandmaker caught himself and then eyed the boy standing next to the reborn Slytherin. “And _you_ , Mister Longbottom, are two years late.”

“My friend here is an expert at Herbology, Garrick,” Harry beamed with a cheeky gleam in his eye. “And I'm sure with the right sword and experience he'd be an absolute beast at Battle Magic too.”

Ollivander blinked at the hint and then his all-seeing eyes widened when he realised what he had been told. He scrutinised Neville closely, the look unsettling the extremely confused boy, and then smirked when he caught sight of the faint traces of Godric beneath the nervous child's magic.

In Neville's defence at being silent, he had no idea what was going on. Nor could he believe what Harry had just said.

“Be that as it may, Mister Longbottom needs a wand suited for him in order to reach his potential,” the Wandmaker announced, stalking off into the aisles as Harry turned to his friend.

“It's the wand who chooses the wizard, Nev. Unless the wizard makes the want that is.”

“We do not talk about that amendment, Mister Potter,” Ollivander playfully chided as he returned with a box. Neville was looking down at his father's wand as though it had betrayed him.

“Oak, twelve inches with a griffin heartstring. Your father's wand,” the scared boy looked up in surprise at the words. “You are not your father, Mister Longbottom. It is a good wand, the best for _him_ , but not nearly good enough for you.”

“I doubt I could use my dad's,” Harry offered in an attempt to ease the obvious pain the boy was feeling.

“James Potter, mahogany, eleven inches, with a unicorn tail feather.” Ollivander added almost absently. “No doubt only a little better fit for you than Frank Longbottom's is for Mister Longbottom but not by much. No, no, no, the wand _must_ choose the wizard.”

What followed was a five-minute hurricane of swapping wands for Neville as they tried to find one that fitted him. Sparks flew, walls were cracked, and one upset wand even blasted a hole in the ceiling, much to Neville's dismay.

Harry took it all in his stride and was leaning against the window, ankles crossed, and arms folded with a smirk as he watched the show. Only the Founders had been gifted with the knowledge of Garrick's process. The man was as good as he was because he received visions of the wands he had to create. Every wand in the front shop was meant for someone within a century of the wand's creation, whether the wand was the witch or wizard's chosen wand or simply one destined to be burned out in testing wasn't the point. Every wand handed over was meant for that moment with neither client nor Garrick knowing which the winner until would be...

“Aha!” Garrick announced with a flourish as Neville's new wand sparkled with pure joy at finding him. “Cherry, thirteen inches with a unicorn hair as core. A wand fit for focus and amazing power. I dare-say you would be a very good match for a dragon heartstring as well.”

Salazar bit down on his tongue to keep from losing control, the laughter threatening to burst free at the old man's throwaway comment. Garrick was well aware that Godric's wand was a Redwood and Cheery combination with a dragon heartstring core that was perfect for a man of battle with the luck to turn defeat into victory.”

“Come on, brother,” he beamed, clapping Neville on the shoulder who was only staring at his new wand in wide-eyed bliss. “We've got ice-cream to finish!”

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

_31 st August 1993_

Harry had immediately sent off a missive to Ro about his time with Neville as soon as his brother disappeared through the Floo. The reply was at first a deep, heartfelt gratitude for protecting her Godric and then a venomous rant about being half-a-mind to storm Longbottom Hall and take back her man from the evil harridan who had been mistreating him.

Salazar had laughed for almost an hour at that. More so because he knew she would do exactly that if provoked.

It took days and multiple letters that included passing on information from Neville's own messages to get the enraged Ravenclaw to stand down until they met up on the Express. Harry guessed it was only the news of the surprising talk and blanket apology, tears included, Augusta Longbottom gave her grandson that held Luna back.

The day before Harry went back home found him strolling through the Alley. His thoughts were broken by hearing his name being called and he turned to see a vision of beauty waving to him from Fortescue’s.

Hermione had gone a deep brown from the summer sun and her eyes were alight with happiness at seeing him. For a few moments he couldn't breathe and then he was stalking across the distance to pull the excited girl out of her chair and into a swinging hug.

“HARRY!” She squealed in surprise at his reaction to seeing her. Her traitorous heart skipped at wondering what it meant but her more analytical thoughts immediately shot that down. His only reply was laughter, filled with so much joy that it had her feeling light-headed.

As suddenly as he picked her up, Harry dropped her back into her chair and plopped into the one beside her. He sent a smirking grin to the confused Ron and stuck his finger into Hermione's ice-cream to steal a scoop.

“Harry!” She squealed again, smacking his arm in the hope of making him behave. “Stop it. What's got into you?”

“I'm happy to see you,” Harry grinned around his finger and wiggled his eyebrows to send her blushing to her roots. “It looks like the sun suited you both.”

“Where have you been?” Ron asked with more force than he might otherwise have used. He didn't know why but the way Harry treated Hermione set him on edge. “We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd already left and every shop said you hadn't been in.”

“How'd you know I'm staying there?” Harry asked back, not wanting to mention his escapade into Knockturn Alley for some of his more illegal potion ingredients.

“Dad,” Ron shrugged, uninterested in the topic. “After the news broke about the Dursleys, people were worried about you.”

“Dursleys?” Harry frowned. He knew his past jailers hadn't been in the Daily Prophet, not with how diligently he'd been hunting through each copy in the hopes of news about Sirius Black. “What about them?”

“You don't know?” Hermione gasped, anguish filling her beautiful chocolate eyes. “Oh, Harry...”

“Your uncle only went and killed your aunt, didn't he,” Ron said with enthusiasm around a mouthful of ice-cream. Hermione's head snapped around to look at the ginger in disgust and Harry was sure he heard her neck crack with the force. “Tried the same with your cousin then topped himself. People thought they did you in until Dumbledore explained how you were staying here for the summer.”

“Ronald Bilious Weasley! You don't just blurt out something like that!” Hermione screeched, ready to lunge across the table at the insensitive child.

“It's okay, Hermione,” Harry cut off her off before the rant began by capturing her hand in his. The touch pulled her thoughts up sharp and she gaped at Harry in shock. He _never_ initiated contact, yet he'd been doing exactly that since she had called his name. “I didn't know but I suspected. Vernon was as angry as he'd ever been, and I left them the day I arrived. I told Dumbledore how they treated me and that I wouldn't be going back. I guess...I guess without me there to vent his anger, he turned it on the others.”

_And Best Actor Award goes to..._ He mentally chuckled.

The explanation brought tears to Hermione's eyes. She knew what wasn't being said. A person like Vernon Dursley doesn't do the type of things the news had been reported right off the bat. Those type of people worked up to it and she had no problems imagining her best friend suffering at the monster's hands. She launched herself into Harry's arms and smothered him in one of her bone-crunching hugs at the thought of an innocent Harry at such a man's mercy.

Ron, on the other hand, was thankful to avoid an explosion of Mt. Granger before school started. Although the situation did remind him of something else his dad had heard.

“'’Ere, what's this I heard about you telling off Neville's Gran?”

Hermione pulled away from Harry to give him a questioning look and Harry was worried she was going to start suffering from emotional whiplash. He explained what happened without taking his eyes from hers.

“She was berating him for losing his book list. Never mind the fact everyone in the Alley could see it happening nor the fact that all the shops know exactly what third year material is needed for everyone's courses. No, she simply wanted to make sure Neville knew what a disappointment he was to her and didn't care who knew it.”

“So, you played the White Knight,” Hermione smiled, fondly remembering how Harry had stepped in to save her in first year. “Faced up to someone no one else would so you could protect Neville?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry shrugged, running a hand through his growing hair.

“Well I think that's very nice of you, Harry.”

“It’s ruddy brilliant is what it is, Hermione. Absolutely brilliant! Anyway, we're all staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too. Hermione's there as well so we're all going to King's Cross together.”

Harry beamed at the news Hermione was staying at the Cauldron and the three third years got talking about their school supplies. Ron stole the limelight with his brand-new wand – Willow, fourteen inches with a unicorn hair – while Hermione's excess of bags was explained by her extra classes. He closed his eyes and tried to remember how he had broken Helga from her insane need to learn and study to do it again now. Why everyone thought it was Rowena who was the book obsessive was beyond him. Being just, loyal, and hardworking are perfect reasons for people to hole themselves up in a library.

When Hermione announced she was going to get herself an owl and Ron's pet rat was under the weather, the three of them made their way to the Magical Menagerie. The shop was utter chaos and Harry burst out laughing when he heard the snakes ranting about their lot in life.

“It'sss them,” he giggled with a point to the snakes, slipping partly into Parseltongue enough to cause Ron to shiver. “They're complaining about all the food they can see but can't reach and demanding they be served like the royalty they think they are.”

“They're royal snakes?” Hermione asked in confusion. Harry grinned with a shake of the head.

“Nope. But they've got so used to being served their food that it's the only thing they have to explain their lives.”

Salazar knew from visiting bazaars that snakes bred in captivity either accepted they were captives or made up their own reasons for their situations. While the situation hit too close to home, for both his lives, this batch were acting the perfect snobs.

She looked at Harry in awe, amazed not only at his acceptance of being a Parselmouth but also the ability to learn from snakes. Harry simply smiling back at her, soaking in her face like a starving man, when he heard something caught his attention.

“An ordinary, common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so,” the witch behind the counter explained to Ron as she examined a sickly Scabbers.

Harry's eyes snapped to the rat and he activated his Mage Sight. It wasn't nearly as powerful as Ro’s, but it allowed him to see auras. _Animagus_ he mentally hissed, forcing himself to stop the glare in case the rat turned his way. Quickly plans were formed and abandoned, his sharp mind spinning through both reasons for Ron having an Animagus rat and what he needed to do. Harry come to the frustrating conclusion that he had to wait until they reached Hogwarts before springing any attack on the human in rat form. He had to fight down a shudder at having an Animagus sleeping in their dorm room for the past two years.

He didn't noticed Hermione noticing his reaction to the words.

It also meant he had to keep Esmeralda hidden. Not only would instincts drive the snake towards the rat, but she would never consider allowing a hidden wizard near her bonded. _Hmm, maybe I can send her ahead and have Dobby put her in my old quarters?_ He considered the idea as the Menagerie exploded into insanity as an orange...thing...made a break for freedom and chased the object of Harry's plans out of the shop. Ron ran after the rat and Harry blinked in surprise at the events, making a note to stop slipping into his meditative state when thinking.

The fallout from the insanity had Ron finding Scabbers and Hermione buying the orange thing that turned out to be a half-Kneazle named Crookshanks. Salazar could only sigh. Helga was the same in either life. She'd find the strangest animal possible and think it was as adorable as a bunny.

That Rowena was even more of a strange animal lover was completely ignored by the reborn Founder. For his own safety he couldn't think of the two ladies' quirks combined until he had his brother with him to share the insanity.

Case in point, Helga's damn badgers. Harry cringed at the memory of his love bringing back the small cete of badgers she had found. The animals had been chased out of their home and were starved so Helga, naturally, brought them to Hogwarts. That the little beasts were feral, had a nasty temper, and confiscated a perfectly good classroom near the kitchens didn't matter to his beloved Hufflepuff. They were misunderstood by everyone except for her.

And clearly so was this Crookshanks from the way his Hermione was berating Ron's attitude on their way towards the Leaky Cauldron. He only hoped that this time it wouldn't cost a student their toes.

“Harry!” Yet again his name being called pulled Harry from his thoughts. It was with surprise that he realised they'd reached the Cauldron and it was Arthur Weasley talking to him. “How are you doing?”

“Good, sir,” He answered honestly as they settled around the man's table. “It's been a fantastic summer.”

Arthur put his paper down and Harry caught sight of the front page and the familiar face staring out from it.

“He's still out there then?” He asked, and Hermione's head shot around as she caught the hope at the question that could so easily be taken different ways.

“I'm afraid so.” Arthur confirmed, and Hermione was sure she saw relief flash in her friend's green eyes. “They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry but so far no luck.”

“Would we get a reward if we caught him?” Ron asked with an eye on Harry's clothing, counting the galleons. “It would be good to have more money.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Ron. No thirteen-year-old wizard is going to catch Sirius Black.”

Ron was saved from his father's ire by the appearance of Molly and the rest of the Weasley brood still attending Hogwarts. Percy did a fair stalk across the pub and held his hand out for Harry to take. Harry internally smirked and rose, his entire posture shifting to one of pomp and circumstance.

“Harry,” Percy said as though they'd never met. “How nice to see you. I hope you're well.”

“Hello, Percy. I'm exceedingly well, thank you,” Harry returned in a professional voice that had everyone blinking in surprise. “Last year at Hogwarts, eh? What's your plans for when you're done?”

The two proceeded to exchange political banter, Percy talked about his final goal of being Minister had the twins chortling. Harry's comment about them needing one who believed in family above everything and wouldn't be afraid to fight against evil laws had the ginger blinking, a thoughtful frown crossing his face.

The pause in talk was enough for the twins to push their brother out of the way and take hold of Harry's hands.

“Simply splendid to see you, old boy!” Fred declared loudly.

“It's marvellous, old chap!” George agreed.

“Absolutely spiffing!” They finished together with a bow.

“That's enough you two,” Molly declared with a huff, not appreciating her sons' sense of humour. “Hello, Harry, dear. I'm sorry to hear about your family.”

“Relatives, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry waved off her concern with a flick of the wrist. “Relatives are people you're related to regardless of feelings. Family are those you love regardless of relation. The Dursleys were never my family.”

Harry's blasé reaction took them all aback and Percy quietly made his way up the stairs. Harry realised he had given the pompous snot plenty to think about. At least he hoped he had.

The dinner with the Weasleys was enjoyable. Conversation flowed, laughter was never far from being released because of the twins, and Harry learned that they were all being taken to King's Cross by car. He took his time in slipping back into his double room where an eager Dobby had already disassembled the potions lab. All his belongings were packed away and Hedwig was already on a lazy flight north to avoid being stuck in the cage.

He decided to laze on the bed with Esmeralda wrapped across his shoulders and read the Ancient Runes textbook. As much of a Potions Master as Salazar was, it was his girls who had truly Mastered Runes and Arithmancy. He and Godric were naturals, using magic instinctively that the ladies had to then break down in order to make one of their new spells teachable. The men simply _did_ , much to their endless frustrations.

It was why there was no true Arithmetic formula for the Avada Kedavra curse. Salazar had created it to represent the fire of his family magic to strike fear into his enemies and never wanted the terrible magics involved in its casting to be understood.

A knock at the door brought Harry from his maudlin thoughts and Dobby instantly appeared. “It bes Miss Grangey, Master Harry.”

“Let her in, my friend,” he said, reaching up to stroke Esmeralda's head.

He heard the click of a door unlocking and watched as Hermione slipped inside without even looking around. Only when she made sure the door was closed did her eyes begin their search. Harry watched with amusement as her jaw dropped in a fairly good impersonation of a fish at what she saw.

“ _Harry_?” She squeaked, raising a shaking hand to point at his shoulder. “What is _that_?”

“A basilisk, Hermione,” He said with a chuckle. “You can come closer and stroke her, she won't bite.”

“Harry James Potter, why do you have a BASILISK on your shoulders??”

Harry was extremely grateful for the silencing charms around the room.

“Because I'm bonded to her, Hermione,” he explained patiently, though with a cheeky grin. “Esmeralda, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Esmeralda.”

_~~“Her scent is familiar. She is your Helga?”~~_

_~~“She will be soon,”~~_ he answered. “She says that it's very nice to meet you and you smell nice. I told her you've always smelt nice to me.”

Esmeralda hissed with laughter at the blatant lie of her bonded and smacked his arm with the end of her tail. Hermione gradually shuffled forward, still trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Why aren't you dead? Or petrified?” She softly asked, dropping onto his bed. “Or me?”

“Basilisks have two magical lids they can close,” Harry patiently explained. He stretched out his right arm and Esmeralda slithered slowly down it. Hermione looked like she wanted to bolt but was unable to move. “The inner lid changes the death stare into a petrification one while the outer cancels the magic completely.”

“So, the basilisk last year?” Hermione asked, unable to believe she was about to reach out and stroke a basilisk.

“Unknown,” he shrugged, the movement helping Esmeralda move closer to his deepest love. “Water, a window or your mirror weakens a death glare but does nothing for the petrification one. We'll never know if you would have died without the mirror.”

Hermione's finger paused in stroking Esmeralda's crown at the pain in Harry's voice. She looked into his eyes and for a brief moment the emotions she saw there took her breath away. The he blinked, and they were gone. She couldn't work out if what she had seen was true or her imagination.

“Anyway, after all that happened with the school thinking it was me I decided to visit the goblins. I had to go on my birthday as they wouldn't see me before I turned thirteen,” Harry explained, giving only enough details to make sense to his inquisitive girl. “As I'm the last in my family, I've been allowed to take up the position of Lord Potter. It's why Neville's Gran didn't do anything when I told her off. I was actually doing so through House obligations.”

She gaped at the revealed Potter ring, her mind working a mile-a-minute to assimilate everything she was hearing.

“Now, according to the goblins the Potters come from the Peverells. But so did Salazar Slytherin. And when the family became Potters, one of _them_ ended up marrying a Slytherin to bring the bloodlines back together. Mum was the first non-Squib in a line dating back to Salazar himself, hence our eyes are the same colour. I'm the most connected wizard to Slytherin there is.”

And wouldn't _that_ bit of news about one Lily Evans send the Pure-bloods crazy if he allowed it to be released.

“You're Lord Slytherin...” Hermione gasped, easily putting the pieces together. He gave her his lopsided grin in pride and flashed the second family ring at her.

“And the goblins took me to Salazar's vault where Esmeralda was in status along with a runespoor,” Harry chuckled at how he was telling her the truth without filling in any pesky details about being Salazar. “I bonded with Esmeralda while the runespoor, called Moirai, told me exactly who he was meant for.”

“Who?” Hermione squeaked, looking around the room as though expecting the three-headed snake to appear.

“Luna Lovegood.”

“Wait, Moirai?” Hermione's bear trap of a mind caught onto the name. “As in the Fates? Hogwarts: A History says that there's a lot of anecdotal evidence that Rowena Ravenclaw was a Seer.”

“She was.” Harry confirmed, smiling brightly at the thought of his little sister. “And Moirai wanted to go to the most Ravenclaw of the Ravenclaws. Luna is also a Seer.”

And once again Hermione's jaw was wide open at what she heard. She also suspected he was telling her that this Luna was Ravenclaw's descendant. She was about to ask about the strange blonde when she suddenly remembered why she'd sneaked into his room.

“You don't want Sirius Black to be caught,” she accused, glaring at him as though it was his fault she had been distracted.

“The goblins told me that he named me his heir as soon as I was born. Why would a man do that if he was to betray the child and child's parents to their enemies?”

“Maybe he changed his mind?” She frowned, trying to look at all the options rather than what would give Harry someone who cared for him.

“Maybe,” Harry agreed. “But it does mean there are questions. Like why now? I've been at Hogwarts for two years yet he's only _now_ coming after me? I don't know what the answers are, Hermione, but I do know questions that need to be asked.”

She could agree with him there. It was with a heavy sigh that she rose to leave the room, only stopping when he called her name.

“No one else knows about what I've told you,” he told her. It wasn't technically a lie since he'd told Ro far more and in better detail. “I'm trusting you, Hermione.”

“I won't betray you, Harry,” She promised as her heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. It then skipped at the bright smile he sent her off with.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

_1 st September 1993_

As part of the course with the Weasleys, the morning they needed to get to King's Cross was the most chaotic of the summer. Hermione gave Harry a questioning look at the lack of a basilisk and owl, to which he simply smirked back. “Elf delivery.”

The trip to the station ended up almost boring compared to the previous year's. Harry made sure to tell Hermione to look for Neville and Luna as it was clear, even without Legilimency, that Arthur was looking for a chance to take him aside. When the Weasley patriarch did so, Harry tried to head any conversation off at the start.

“Sir, is this about the Dursleys?”

“What...? No, no, Harry....and I am sorry about them...but no,” Arthur stammered.

“Sirius Black then?” Harry nodded, leaving Mr. Weasley to gape at him in surprise. “I've heard rumours that people think he might be coming after me and that there are Dementors surrounding Hogwarts.”

“How...?” The impersonation of a fish was now complete, allowing Harry to pushed on.

“I listen, sir. But I thank you for your worry and I promise, I won't be foolishly charging off to find the man.” _I'll be cunning and smart when I bring the man to me_. He secretly amended.

Arthur sagged with relief and Harry quickly got onto the train before anything more could be said. He had no idea if Mr. Weasley knew something that he needed to know but he knew there wasn't time for him to get any information out of the man. A bit of reassuring wouldn't hurt their relationship.

As soon as the Express was on its way, Harry closed his eyes and opened himself up to the magic around him. _~~“Where are you my little Raven.”~~_

A pulse off to the back end of the train had Harry smiling and he led the way without looking in any of the passing carriages. It was an old trick of theirs. A bit of wandless warding that could lead any Founder to any of the others in case one was hurt or taken by their enemies. It was a trick that had saved both Salazar and Godric's life on multiple occasions.

The three friends found Luna and Neville in the very last carriage along with a shabbily dressed man who looked to be in a deep sleep. Harry's eyes locked onto the man, took in the greying hair for someone who seemed to be about the age of his parents and the poor clothes, and did some mental calculations to work out it was the full moon. His eyes widened, and he sent a grin of gratitude towards Ro for finding him a werewolf.

“What you got here, Beautiful?” Harry laughed, plopping himself down next to Hermione while Ron sat beside Neville.

“Hello, Handsome. I found myself a Gryffindor,” Luna smiled widely, and Hermione looked between them with open eyes at their banter. “Can I keep him?”

Harry laughed at the way her arm was already possessively wrapped around Neville's. The boy in question seemed a little taken aback by her direct attitude but certainly not against it.

“Why not, Little Raven? You have my permission to court our good Gryffindor.”

The blonde squealed happy and launched herself into Harry's arms for a hug. His laughter was filled with delight and he sent the blushing Neville a wink. The boy grew even redder when Luna broke the hug to jump onto Neville's lap.

“Hey, Nev,” Harry grinned into the silence that followed the exchange. “Had a good few days, brother?”

Ron's ears turned red at the way Harry addressed the other boy. Neville took his cue from Harry and ignored the potential explosion building.

“I really did, Harry,” Neville decided to hold onto the blonde who had apparently claimed him. If Harry thought it was a good idea, then who was he to argue? “I know I thanked you already but thank you. Gran's been totally different.”

“It needed to be done,” Harry waved the thanks away. Salazar and Godric's friendship went far beyond the need for thanks yous. “Just make sure to remember what I told you. Letting yourself down is worse than letting someone else down. Never stop doing your best. Especially now you've got that new wand.”

Hermione was simply confused while it was Ron's reaction that changed the entire mood. He had watched Harry, in brand new expensive clothes, be friendly and flirty with Hermione most of the previous day. He was now doing the same with Loony Lovegood and apparently even Neville had a new wand, meaning having his own wasn’t as special as it should have been. The red-head's insecurities and anger issues mounted until his mouth opened before his brain could engage.

“When did you get friendly with Loony?”

Harry struck like the snake he truly was. He launched himself from his chair and delivered a left cross that broke Ron's nose. The compartment door was forced open by Harry's magic as he picked up his former friend by the shirt collar and threw him at the door to the compartment opposite.

All but Luna watched in horror at how fast Harry moved. Instead the true Ravenclaw's pale eyes were filled with sadness at her brother's anger. Salazar had taken Rowena under his care, even become her Mind-Healer when her past became too much to bare and was without mercy in protecting her. Not even her Godric reacted to insults like the force of nature that lurked beneath Salazar Slytherin's mask. The only thing more stupid than attacking her would be when someone thought to attack Helga.

“What did I tell you?” Harry snarled, pressing his forearm into Ron's throat so that he cut off the boy's air. “What did I say would happen if you called her that name?”

Ron could only struggle to get free from the wild animal attacking him. Harry's eyes glowed and his magic crackled in the air.

“I've broken your nose, Ron. Want to go for me feeding you your bits and choking on them?”

The small shake of the head was all the captive boy could manage. The fear radiating off the boy did nothing to calm Harry's fury.

“Harry, stop!” Hermione pleaded, finally able to engage her brain. Harry's attack had been fast and deadly, exactly as promised at the Leaving Feast. “You'll get in trouble. Let him go. Please.”

“I'm sure the boy is sorry for what he did, Mister Potter,” a new voice spoke up behind Harry. Salazar could only surmise that the scent of blood had woken the werewolf up. “But you really don't want to get in trouble before even reaching Hogwarts.”

Harry eased back his arm and the now purple Ron Weasley gasped in agony as he tried to relearn how to breath. Harry didn't need to look around to know that others were also watching.

“I don't like bullies, Ron,” Harry spoke in a chillingly calm voice. The warning caused those listening to blanch. “I won't take what happened last year again, nor will I allow my friends to be bullied. I also won't allow my friends to _be_ bullies. If this is something you're okay with, we can carry on as though nothing happened. If not, that's it, we're over.”

Ron, filled with anger and embarrassment, looked at Harry and saw how little the Boy-Who-Lived cared for Ron's decision. The insecurities won, and he spat a glob of blood onto Harry's silk shirt.

“Screw you, Prince Potter. I hope Black finds you and you get what you deserve.”

Hermione gasped, her hand covering her mouth at the horrible words. Harry merely turned to the side to look back into the compartment, ignoring the eyes that filled the hallway.

“Neville, if you could get Weasley's trunk down so he could find a new compartment?”

They shared a look that had Neville nodding and doing what had been asked. Denied of her perch, Luna did a quick Scourgify to clean Harry's shirt. Neville handed over the trunk without a word and Ron disappeared down the train. Harry re-entered their compartment, closing the door behind him before pulling Hermione into a deep hug.

“It's okay. It's okay,” he told her, rubbing soothing patterns down her back. Green eyes locked onto dark brown ones that held the hint of amber in them. “I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to wake you up with all of that.”

“Nonsense,” the werewolf responded from his retaken seat. “I'm Remus Lupin, your new DADA Professor, so you can see it was my job to keep it from getting out of hand.”

“Mr. Lupin,” Harry nodded to the man as he eased himself and Hermione down into a seat. She had yet to release the hug and he was in no mood to release her. “I'm Harry Potter, this is Neville Longbottom, someone I consider a brother in all but blood.”

The title caused a reaction from the Professor that caught Harry's interest and he put it aside for later.

“He's a Gryffindor through and through. The delightful blonde is Luna Lovegood, about as pure a Ravenclaw as you could wish for,” the girl in question did a strange curtsy from her retaken position on Neville's lap. “The distressed lady in my arms is another Gryffindor by the name of Hermione Granger. Smartest Witch of our Generation.”

Hermione sniffed as Harry brought a knuckle to her chin to force her into looking up at him. “Hermione, these two are friends and would love to be yours. They won't abuse you for being smart, they won't tease you for your love of learning. They'll be the true friends that we deserve.”

Hermione's chocolate eyes widened as she realised that Harry knew exactly why she was crying. She was afraid that with the breakup of Harry and Ron's friendship. she would be forced to choose and, in doing so, leave her with only one friend no matter what. Here was Harry, not only explaining that he knew this, but also offering two new friends who wouldn't hurt her in a moment of annoyance.

She withdrew from his arms, cleaned herself up using the conjured tissue Professor Lupin provided, and smiled at everyone. The fear reseeded when she received honest smiles back.

“I noticed you didn't mention your own House, Mister Potter,” Remus pointed out.

“Ah, that would be because I'm a Slythendor, sir,” Harry replied with a Marauder worthy smirk. He stretched out his legs to give off the air of being incredibly relaxed. “I'm a Slytherin in Gryffindor colours.”

Three sets of eyes looked at him in confusion while Luna giggled at the teaser.

“The Sorting Hat wanted me to be in Slytherin, but I didn't believe _my_ Slytherin tendencies would match what the House is perceived to be. So, I asked for Gryffindor and Gryffindor I became. Doesn't mean I'm still not a Snake at heart.”

“And just how many people are aware of this?” Remus asked, fighting back memories of another black-haired boy who chose the Lions over the House of Snakes.

“You four and the Hat. If you listen to the Hogwarts grapevine then you'll hear I'm the Gryffindor Golden Boy. Can't do no wrong, unless it was last year where they thought I was the next Dark Lord. Or unless your name is Snape,” Harry ignored Hermione's automatic 'Professor Snape' as he caught Professor Lupin's reaction to the name. _Bad blood perhaps?_ He wondered. “Now Snape believes I'm a pampered prince, born with a silver spoon in my mouth and as arrogant and useless at magic in the exact vein as my father.”

This time Remus _really_ had to fight back the growl at what he was hearing.

“Well, sir, my childhood was anything but that and I have the scars to prove it. I've also been told that the greasy git had a bit of a thing for my mother and is pissed at my father for winning her affections. And since I look so much like him, I'm getting the brunt of it.”

Everyone had their own reaction to the news and the Professor's lack of reaction to the last bit proved to Harry that not only was it true but that the Professor had been at school with both his parents and Snape. Nothing like a bit of shocking truth to uncover secrets.

Harry quickly brought up two more students he was sure could have been sorted into Slytherin, the twins, and how they were the prank masters of the school. The change of subjects eased the tension in the room and soon the conversations flowed this way and that.

Harry didn't mind Hermione or Neville knowing his past as they eventually would anyway, and he used his little speech as an opening to the werewolf. Hopefully the honesty would give him a chance with the man when he attempted to cure him.

Hermione had never enjoyed a ride on the Express more once the initial unpleasantness was over with. No topic was off limits and at least one of the people she was with knew enough to engage her in discussion. The Lovegood girl came across as a bit flighty but knew topics far beyond first year. _Well she would, wouldn't she? She's a Ravenclaw._ Hermione thought to herself. While Neville wasn't as knowledgeable, Harry seemed to be capable of drawing the shy boy into a discussion even if it was to explain things to him. And the new Professor appeared to have spent time in the Muggle world as he was easily able to talk about the areas of France she had visited on holiday with her parents.

The trolley lady came and went, and it was to laughter that Draco Malfoy pulled open the compartment door.

“And here we have the perfect example of a Gryfferin,” Harry announced before the blond could even open his mouth. Remus perked up at the tone Harry was using. It was the same one James used when about to deliver a verbal slap-down. “Every year, young Draco here comes a-calling. Every year young Draco here wanders over to the Gryffindor table or catches us in the corridors and spouts off. Now, while he might have been sorted into Slytherin, I'm pretty sure the 'Charge ahead and make it up as you go along' attitude is Gryffindor courage.”

“Yes, Harry, that's _exactly_ Gryffindor courage,” Luna chuckled, remembering how he had claimed Sebastian tricked him into killing Slinky using the exact same method.

“So, you see, Professor,” Harry continued, ignoring Luna's personal jab with long practice. Draco winced when he realised a member of staff was present. “Here we have a Gryffindor in Slytherin colours.”

The blond slammed the door shut without uttering a world and stormed off as the compartment filled with more laughter. Remus could only think of how proud James would have been at Harry's verbal skills.

The weather had turned nasty and sometime later the train slowed and eventually stopped. Remus frowned when he realised that they were still a little time from Hogsmeade. The lights dimmed, and a chill formed in the air, quickly followed by a sense of foreboding.

“No, no,” Harry snapped, shaking his head in denial. “They bloody can't be this stupid. The Ministry can't be.”

“Harry? What is it?” Hermione asked, her fear rising, but he couldn't hear her.

He was too busy trying to erect his strongest shields against the rising effect of the vilest creature's known to Wizard kind. But he was too late, and their power had already seeped into his mind. A familiar scream echoed inside him, trying to force its way free and behind that memory were even more painful ones from Salazar's life. He could hear Rowena weeping across from him, her mind too open with her Sight to fight against the dreaded monsters.

“Dementorsss,” he blindly hissed, hearing the compartment door open.

Remus didn't understand how Harry knew what was happening so quickly. What he did know was that his best friend's son and the unique Luna were already being badly affected by the Dementors. When the door opened and the Dementor stood in its opening he reacted, forcing his happiest thoughts forward.

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_

The silver wolf slammed into the cloaked figure and drove it back. Remus followed, his protective anger causing the Patronus to be even stronger and the beast fled rather than be hurt any longer by the powerful magic.

Remus wasted no time in racing back to the compartment and handed out chocolate to the four children. “Eat plenty. I need to speak to the driver, so we can get to Hogsmeade.”

Harry made sure Luna ate most of the chocolate, only nibbling his, and explained to the shocked Neville and Hermione what exactly had happened.

“Dementors are the non-human guards of Azkaban. They're foul, loathsome, disgusting beasts that should not exist,” he ranted with venom. Salazar had needed his friends when he found out that it was the evil son of his bloodline's progenitor who created the Dementors and the Snake Lord always felt helpless when he thought of the lives taken by the creatures.

“Sa...Harry,” Luna stopped her friend mid-rant with a gentle touch on the arm, kicking herself for almost slipping up. “Stop.”

He sighed and gave a nod to her before continuing. “They feed on everything that's good inside you. They make you live your worst memories, trap you inside your own personal hell until they get close enough to suck out your soul.”

“H...how...how do you stop them?” Neville asked with wide eyes. If a Dementor could make Harry this weak so quickly what could he do against them?

“The Patronus Charm,” Remus answered as he stepped back into the compartment. “We're ten minutes away from the station. How are you feeling, Harry?”

“Worse than when I killed the basilisk last year and the bugger bit me,” he answered truthfully, running a hand over his face in exhaustion.

“ _Basilisk_??” Remus stumbled back into his chair with wide eyes and open mouth. “How? What? Why?”

Since the tale was easier on Harry's mind than thinking about what the Dementors had put him through, he was able to tell the story of their second year. Even the brief summary so that they covered everything in the ten-minute window left the werewolf staring at Harry in awe and not a bit of panic.

“Basilisk bite? Phoenix tears?”

“Yep,” Harry gave a wry smile and rolled up his sleeve to show the scar. Well, the Phoenix tears _would_ have been a reality if the Awakening ritual hadn't kicked in. Remus immediately promised himself to have a very stern word with Albus about what the hell the Headmaster was playing at.

The group were quiet when they got off the Express. Harry absently did a water repelling charm to keep them dry, not realising he did it wandlessly and silent, nor that Hermione caught it. Rowena was worried for her brother. He had put his mask on, the one that meant he was ready to go to war, and she feared that she would lose him all over again.

“Ro,” he whispered to her as they made their way to the thestral drawn carriages. “Feel up to casting waves and changing plans?”

She didn't reply. Instead she used the walk to their carriage to See if Harry's change of plans would negatively affect them. She could tell pain and Darkness were coming whatever road they took but there was a sense of contentment and strength coming from whatever Harry had decided on.

The boy in question allowed Neville to go first and the two boys made sure the girls made it into the carriages with ease. She gave Harry a nod as he pulled himself in and he returned it with a smile of relief.

“Guys, don't freak out okay?” He said to Hermione and Neville before calling out. “Dobby!”

“Dobby bes here, Master Harry,” the elf popped in with a salute. The elf was wearing what appeared to be a Slytherin green toga and a lion's mane wig.

Neville's jaw dropped at the outfit while Hermione looked like her brain had crashed. Luna merely giggled at her brother having such an eccentric elf.

“Can you retrieve Esmeralda and Moirai for Luna and me, my friend?” He asked without pause at the little guy's appearance. The others weren't so used to the strangeness.

“Yes, sir!”

“Harry, what the...” Hermione started only to be interrupted when Dobby returned with the two familiars. Both she and Neville jumped at the sight and could only watch as the snakes slithered onto their bonded's shoulders.

“Nev, Parselmouth, remember?” Harry reminded his brother who only nodded mutely. “I'll explain where these two came from, but the short story is that they're our bonded familiars. It's a stronger connected than a normal familiar. You know some things that have led to this point, Hermione knows others. I'll explain it all to you both when we have free time but I'm asking you both to trust me. Trust us.”

“Harry, what's this about?” Hermione asked with concern, wondering if the Dementor had affected him more than he admitted.

“Protection,” he told her with a determined look. “Protecting Neville, protecting Luna and protecting you.”

He refused to say anything more. Instead he glared with rage at the Dementors on either side of the school gates. Esmeralda picked up on his emotions and hissed at the foul creatures.

The moment their carriage crossed the inner ward boundary, both Harry and Luna felt the castle sing in praise at their return. They sent Cassie warmth back and a promise to aid her as soon as they could. The promise caused the school to pulse with happiness. They both knew the Headmaster would have felt her reactions but didn't care. Hogwarts was _theirs_.

.

.

OoOo


	5. A Snake vs. a Bat vs. a Goat

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

A Snake vs. a Bat vs. a Goat

 

_1 st September 1993_

Harry's blood sang with the joyous feelings of his beloved Hogwarts. He couldn't take his eyes off what had been commissioned as Slytherin Castle. Esmeralda hissed in her own delight at being back home and the two almost missed a far too familiar voice ringing the moment he exited the carriage.

“You fainted, Potter? Is Weasley telling...what in Merlin's name is _that?_ ”

_Ron has a big mouth. Who knew?_ Sal sarcastically thought, trying to work out why he, as Harry, had ever been friends with Mr. 'Do you have the scar?' That thought was hijacked by the immense pleasure of seeing the nasty glee in Draco Malfoy's eyes vanish at the sight of Esmeralda. The little shit tried to step back from the baby basilisk as she hissed unladylike things, but his path was thwarted by the usual bookends behind him.

“This? She's a snake, Malfoy,” Harry answered in a bored tone, lightly stroking the basilisk as everyone stopped to stare. Esmeralda continued to berate the teen and Sal began to wonder just how much time she had spent around Godric after he left Hogwarts to learn some of the things she was saying. Some of her diatribe included things that were anatomically impossible for the boy to do without a lot of blood and pain. “Surely a great Slytherin like you knows what a snake looks like.”

It was only the two girls standing beside him who picked up on the dangerous drawl under the words and they shared a look, hoping that the blond wouldn't push back.

Remus Lupin had decided to take the last Thestral-drawn carriage in case of any problems between the students and the Dementor guards. What the new DADA Professor was no expecting was coming across two snakes, one being a runespoor, especially when he knew Harry and Luna had been without them on the Express. “What's going on here?”

“I'm introducing my bonded to this Gryfferin, Professor,” the son of James Potter answered with innocent eyes. The use of 'Gryfferin' combined with _the look_ Remus' best friend had perfected explained everything. The young Malfoy had tried one of his big plays and failed, resulting in a prank in retaliation. _Merlin, it's like Prongs lives again,_ Remus thought. “Apparently he wasn't sure what a snake looks like.”

“Well now you know, Mister Malfoy,” Remus answered, using all of his past experience to keep from laughing at the gapping fish impersonation the Slytherin was doing. “Perhaps you can get inside so we can all get out of the cold?”

Harry smirked at Malfoy who shuffled away with Crabbe and Goyle following obediently behind.

“And where _did_ you get your snakes from?” Remus asked as they walked to the school

“Elf delivery, Professor,” Harry explained with a smile that was as much for the clearly listening crowd as it was for his new teacher. “We decided that it would be best for everyone to get the shock of them being here out of the way now rather than later.”

“Just make sure this is a, what you really want to do, and b, that you're able to control them.”

The werewolf was beginning to wonder if he'd survive the coming year if this was any indication of how much Harry took after his father.

“It is, and we can, Professor,” Luna promised. She was skipping alongside Neville without a care in the world. Moirai was in the middle of a theoretical discussion about the existence of some of the Lovegood animals that had the blonde in high spirits and Harry and Esmeralda sharing worried glances.

“Potter, Granger, Lovegood. I want to see you...what in Merlin's name?”

“They're bonded animals, Professor McGonagall,” Remus provided, quickly looking away from the innocent face Harry was giving his Head of House in case he laughed.

“Longbottom, move along. You three, this way,” McGonagall commanded with pursed lips and a suspicious twitch threatening to break out above her left eye. She stormed away, clearly expecting to be obeyed, and Remus took the shell-shocked Neville into the Great Hall while the other three followed.

Hermione was nervously chewing her lip at being in trouble while Harry and Luna hummed a joint melody that was exceptionally off key. The Transfiguration Mistress took them to her office and had then settle in chairs.

“Professor Lupin sent word ahead of the train, Mister Potter. Of both your altercation with Mister Weasley the younger and falling ill,” she explained. McGonagall was doing her best to show concern over Harry's reaction to the Dementors, her disapproval to him fighting Ron, and ignore the snakes that were draped over the two students' shoulders. Sal was quite surprised that she managed to pull off the look without coming across as constipated. “However, he did _not_ mention your snakes.”

“They weren't with us,” Harry answered in his role as the spokesman for this particular meeting. “Luna and I bonded to these wonderful animals over the summer. We felt it best to show them to the school now rather than cause trouble later on.”

As he was speaking the door opened and Madam Pomfrey stepped inside. She froze at the sight of the two large snakes using Harry and Luna as pillows.

“Mister Potter and Miss Lovegood fell sick to a dementor, Poppy,” McGonagall explained to get the matron moving as she turned her glare at the serpents. “You're telling me Miss Lovegood just happened to find and bond with a runespoor?”

“Oh, no, Professor,” Harry smiled sweetly at her and she shivered at how familiar the look was to how another Potter would look at her. “I found the runespoor and gave it to her.”

“And your snake?”

“With the runespoor, Professor.”

“And what type of snake is it, Mister Potter?”

“A beautiful one, Professor.”

Luna giggled at Harry's wordplay, knowing he was mostly doing it to cheer her up, while Hermione couldn't believe how her friend was talking to her favourite Professor. Pomfrey merely tutted at the boy's responses and muttered to herself about being sure she'd be seeing him in her Infirmary sooner rather than later.

“What _species_ , Mister Potter?” McGonagall's tone made it clear she would tolerate no more cheek.

“Serpentes Basiliscus, Professor.”

The room went as totally quiet as one could with an arguing runespoor as the two women stared at Harry in horror.

“You're getting rid of it, Potter!” McGonagall snapped in fear. “We are not having a second basilisk running around this school.”

“Technically they slither,” he replied to which Hermione's control finally snapped and she smacked his arm. Sal was pretty sure she growled as well but he tried not to think about that. “And I'm afraid you can't stop me, ma'am. You see the original Hogwarts Charter, which can only be added to and never taken from, states that any student is allowed any number of familiars and/or bonded animals so long as the student in question can control the animal in question. The Charter also makes specific reference that no student or their bonded/familiar can be discriminated against when it comes the animal's danger or cuteness levels.”

“Does it _really_ say that?” Hermione asked before McGonagall could reply.

By this time Rowena was giggling madly as she remembered exactly why Godric had made sure to include the cuteness part of the Charter. Her love of the small and furry was infamous in their time.

“Oh yes,” Sal nodded happily, grinning as he too remembered the reason behind Godric's addition. “If someone bonds with a Nundu and is able to control it, they're legally allowed to keep it in a protective area within the school grounds. Now technically no one has actually died from cuteness overdose, but the Charter wanted to cover both ends of the danger spectrum just in case.”

McGonagall dropped her head into her hands and Harry was almost sure his Head of House was about to start crying. “It's like James Potter all over again!”

“I'll take that as the compliment it's given in, Professor.”

“Can you control it?” Madam Pomfrey asked, deciding to help her poor friend out in dealing with the infuriating boy. “That's what has us worried.”

“I can,” he promised, and all cheek and humour vanished with the seriousness of his answer. “Esmeralda won't bite anyone unless it's to protect her life or mine and if she uses her stare, it'll be to petrify only. As long as I nor my friends are in danger, she won't be a problem.”

“And you, Miss Lovegood?” McGonagall had pulled herself together through Harry's answer, though there was still a slight twitch in one of her eyelids.

“Moirai is perfectly happy not biting people, Professor” the girl brightly beamed. “It's only Atropos who gets moody and snaps at others, the other two are much more relaxed.”

“You will both be talking this over with the Headmaster,” the Gryffindor Head announced without room for questions. “And Potter, as far as anyone else is concerned you don't know what _type_ of snake... Esmeralda?.. is. But I promise you, I'll be calling the Aurors the moment there's any issues with it. Now what happened between the three of you and Mister Weasley?”

“At last year's Leaving Feast Ron called Luna Loony,” Harry's face darkened, and it was now an angry Lily who Minerva McGonagall was reminded of. “I detested bullies growing up, I detest bullying the likes of which I suffered all last year over being a Parselmouth, and I refuse to allow my friends to suffer the same as I.”

The Transfiguration Mistress had the good graces to wince at the how she'd allowed the school to ostracise her Lion. She knew that doing nothing was just as bad as those who were guilty.

“I warned Ron that if he called her that disgusting name again, I'd break his nose. He used it on the train and his nose I did break.”

The proud Gryffindor Head of House and the most snake-like Lion ever to walk Hogwarts' halls had a momentary stare down. It was McGonagall sighed and looked away first.

“Ten points for protecting another student, Mister Potter. Ten points _deducted_ for attacking another student. I won't be as lenient the next time something like this happens. Now wait outside while I quickly talk to Miss Granger about her timetable before we get to the Feast.”

Harry rose and offered his elbow to Luna. The girl happily took it and waited as he turned back to face the Scotswoman. It was all Salazar Slytherin who spoke next.

“Professor, you would do well to remember that I took on a thousand-year-old basilisk not four months ago to save Ginny Weasley and the rest of the school. Do not, _ever_ , think that the safety of Hogwarts and her students are not foremost in my thoughts and actions.”

He and Luna left behind a heavy silence. The two friends learned nonchalantly against the wall waiting on the third of their quartet, each lost in their own thoughts. Poppy wasn't long in following and the matron took one look at the couple before shaking her head and moving off.

“Any idea what that's about,” he asked Ro by throwing his chin in the direction of the closed door.

“Some. If it's what I fear, then it has to be stopped but I'll need time before I know for sure.”

Harry nodded, trusting her the way he always had. When McGonagall and Hermione finally came out of the office Harry was surprised at the sheer amount of happiness lighting up the girl's face. Whatever was going on had been a highlight for her. The parts that were both Harry and Salazar hoped dearly it wasn't something that would come back to bite her in the end. They loved their respective bushy-haired friend too much to let that slide.

The four made their way quietly back to the Hall. McGonagall led the way, Hermione alternated between giving the other two questioning looks while fighting a skip in her step, and Harry was only partially listening to Luna's conversation with Moirai. It was only as the Hall's doors were coming up that Professor McGonagall spoke.

“Stand beside me when we enter the Great Hall, Mister Potter, Miss Lovegood,” she said in a tight voice that revealed how much she didn't appreciate what was about to happen. “I'll announce your familiars and remind the students that it'll be on their heads to mess with such obviously dangerous animals. And don't think this means you get out of seeing the Headmaster about this.”

The two nodded while Hermione quickly rushed to a spot at the Gryffindor table as McGonagall stood in the entrance doorway. Almost at the exact moment everyone turned only to fall silent at what they saw. Harry and Luna stared back at the shocked faces and dared any to speak.

“Students of Hogwarts, Staff of Hogwarts,” McGonagall's strong words were unnecessary. They all wanted to hear what was to be said next. “The students by my side are Mister Potter and Miss Lovegood. The snakes around their shoulders are their bonded familiars.”

Murmurs exploded around the Hall at the announcement while Dumbledore frowned. Harry saw Snape's sneer grow and knew a confrontation was looming. He couldn't wait.

“By Hogwarts Charter they are allowed these snakes with them. _Anyone_ attempting to hurt either snake or student will more than likely be attacked by the other,” that sent some faces going pale. “Do not think this is a game. These snakes are dangerous creatures and will not hesitate to protect their bonded. Respect them, respect these students, and you will find no problem with either. Both students have already been warned to keep their snakes under control and understand the penalty if they don't.”

With her message sent she strode towards the staff table and left the two to find their own seats. There was no looking back and her stiff back almost screamed McGonagall's displeasure at what she had been forced to do. Neither student cared.

Harry deliberately led Luna to her place and sent the Ravenclaws a stern glare that Esmeralda mirrored. The threat given, he quickly moved to sit beside Hermione and opposite Neville. Ron was sitting with Seamus and Dean, his nose repaired.

Dumbledore spoke a few words with McGonagall who snapped something back. Harry guessed she was reminding the old man of the Charter and that he couldn't actually do anything. He felt Esmeralda shiver and turned away from the Professors to watch Hermione stroking his bonded's head.

“Welcome to and welcome back for another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore's voice cut across the wave of noise from the gossiping students and Harry realised the argument must have finished. “While we've already had a serious announcement, I'm afraid there is yet another before you can enjoy your food. As you will be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban. They are here on the Ministry of Magic's business.

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission,” he paused here to glance at the Gryffindor table to prove his seriousness. The Weasley twins merely gave him eyes-wide innocence that fooled nobody. “Dementors cannot be fooled by tricks or disguises. Not even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understanding pleading or excuses. I therefore warn and plead with each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure no student runs afoul of them.”

“On a much happier note,” Dumbledore went on after a few moments pause. “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks. Firstly, we have Professor Lupin as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and secondly, after the retirement of Professor Kettleburn to spend more time with his remaining limbs, our very own Rubeus Hagrid has agreed to become our Care of Magical Creatures teacher alongside his gamekeeping duties.”

Harry was disgusted with the way Dumbledore announced the two new teachers. The man had obviously not bothered providing Professor Lupin with an advance in order to get decent robes. While there had been some who had seen the man face the Dementor the rest of the school saw only a poorly dressed individual. He had already lost the first impression and that was a dangerous thing when dealing with the Slytherins. To then make it sound as though Hagrid was nothing more than hired help stepping in to cover the COMC class was equally distasteful.

Salazar caught his sister's eyes and she nodded in agreement. It was yet one more black mark against the Headmaster.

The Sorting passed quickly, and the Awakened Founders were the only students who clapped for every new placement, with plenty of strange looks from the other Gryffindors each time he would celebrate a new member to be clad in green. The Feast was delicious as always and by the end of it some of the braver Lions had braved stroking Esmeralda. He told each of them the same, very short, story. He had found her, and they'd immediately connected through magic and he wanted to make sure everyone knew about her to avoid accidents. The twins thought it was a masterful prank.

Towards the end of the Feast, Professor McGonagall delivered a note from the Headmaster requesting his presence in Dumbledore's office. A quick check with Luna and her shake of the head meant that it was only him.

“Well that's strange,” he mused aloud, catching Hermione and Neville's attention. “Professor Dumbledore wants to see me but not Luna.”

“Maybe it's because of, well, you know?” Hermione offered with a nod to a dozing Esmeralda.

“That can't be it,” Neville frowned, thinking the situation through. He'd been told of the conversation in McGonagall's office so knew that any discussion had to either be with both students or neither. “If there's no problem with Luna's snake then there _can't_ be a problem with Harry's. Runespoors have been known to go insane and take out dozens of people before being caught and killed.”

“Could the two of you do me a favour?” Harry asked with concern as he crumbled the note in annoyance. “Could you both see Luna safely to Ravenclaw Tower? I'd say just Neville, but I don't trust Ron mouthing off to you, Hermione, and I want someone I trust there if he does.”

Neville realised that Harry was really asking him to look after both girls whenever he wasn't around. The brief flicker of shock in the boy's eyes turned to fierce determination and he gave a nod of understanding. Hermione tried arguing but Harry was determined.

“Hermione, you know what he's like. He's far too capable of saying something that upsets you and I'm not going to let him have that chance.”

It was the protectiveness in Harry's eyes that had her finally agreeing. She did her best to ignore how the look sent her young romantic heart fluttering.

Harry left the pair and headed towards Dumbledore's office. He knew that Ro could protect herself, that Hogwarts would warn him if either Neville or Hermione were in any true danger, but it didn't ease his worries. As far as Sal was concerned, the enemy had taken over his home and caution and control were needed at every turn.

He pulled his thoughts away from that road and focused on the meeting ahead. That it was to take place in what had once been the griffin nursery tickled him immensely. After all, why else would they have a gargoyle protecting it and have it change between the seventh and second floors?

“Evening, Chip. I bet you're having a laugh over all this,” he cheerfully grinned as he approached the gargoyle. It nodded its head to him and moved smoothly out of the way for him to pass. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard the statue chortle.

“Come in, Harry,” came Dumbledore's voice before he even knocked on the door. _An announcement ward. Tacky_. Harry thought with a derisive sniff.

He entered the office with his cold mask on and his mind protected to its fullest. His shift in scent had Esmeralda wake, ready to protect him if needed. Snape was perched in a corner yet there was no sign of Professor McGonagall.

“Already in trouble, kid?” Sebastian laughed from his position on a shelf. Harry could only imagine Godric's annoyance at it being hidden away like it was.

“You know me,” Harry nonchalantly shrugged with a smirk at the hat. “Never a dull moment.”

Sebastian laughed, much to the amusement of Dumbledore and annoyance of Snape.

“It seems the Hat likes you, Harry. Please, take a seat.”

“ _Sebastian_ enjoys good company and being appreciated, Professor,” Harry corrected as he slipped into the uncomfortable chair. His body immediately took on the pose of a feudal Lord in the presence of his lessors. Snape's sneer grew as well as the barely hidden disgust in the man's dark eyes.

“Sebastian?” The white bushy eyebrow raised high.

“It's my name, ya idjit,” said Hat called out in annoyance.

“Play nice, Sebastian. What have I told you about picking on those less intelligent than you?”

“That it's a waste of my natural talents but a great way to blow off steam,” it retorted with affection and Harry laughed as he remembered saying exactly that. It was a phrase he had made up during his younger years with Godric as a way of keeping the hothead focused.

Snape grumbled none too quietly at the comment and then his dark eyes narrowed at the laughter. A Potter laughing would always get his temper rising.

“Touché,” Harry smirked, shaking his head with amusement. “It's interesting, Professor.”

“Oh? What is, my boy?” Dumbledore's twinkling eye was already annoying Harry but that paled into insignificance at the disgust he felt every time he was called _boy_. Neither life had given him a good reason to be called that.

“Well, two things really. You've never asked for the Hat's name and secondly, you're getting around my right to have Professor McGonagall here on my behalf by having another Head of House present.”

Dumbledore blinked and then frowned at Harry's knowledge, side-stepping the comment about him not speaking to the Hat as an equal. “How do you know that rule, Harry? Minerva mentioned you were versed in the Hogwarts Charter.”

“I read a lot over the summer,” he shrugged, enjoying how the answer caused the Potions Professor to bristle. There was no way Sal would consider the man a Master when he taught the way he did. Harry felt the touch of a Legilimency probe and smacked it away hard enough to cause Dumbledore to wince with pain. The act caused all humour to bleed out of his Avada eyes. “May I ask why you've called me up here, sir?”

“I'm sure in your arrogance you can't imagine,” Snape sneered, unable to keep his opinions quiet any longer.

“Tell me, Snape, is it the fact I look like my father that you hate so much or that my eyes won't let you forget he got the girl?”

Sebastian laughter covered the man's snarl of fury and even Fawkes trilled.

“Insolent brat!” Snape's hand barely moved towards his wand when Harry reacted. The holly wand shot free of his left holster and was pointed at Snape's heart even as Harry continued to sit as though nothing was amiss.

“Raise your wand to me and I'll make you suffer. _Then_ I'll find out how involved you were in my parents’ deaths,” Esmeralda lifted her eyes and hissed dangerously at the dark robed man, ready to launch herself if he made a move to attack her Salazar.

“Severus! Harry! Stop this!” Dumbledore snapped and brought his hand up as though to control the other man. His magic was suddenly pressing down on the room, the grandfather persona replaced by the powerful Chief Warlock, but Harry wasn't impressed. It was all show, nothing more than an animal trying to appear bigger and meaner than it really was. He kept only half an eye on the old man, instead his main focus remained on Snape. “You seem to know a lot more than I expected, Harry.”

“Sebastian was _very_ talkative in the Chamber,” he explained and once more he said things without exactly lying. A second Legilimency probe had to be smacked away and again neither he nor Dumbledore mentioned the attack. “About a spiteful man taking his ire out on me, about blood wards that didn't do their jobs, about a number of interesting things really.”

Severus Snape wasn't a stupid man. Arrogant, bigoted, spiteful beyond description, but not stupid. He hadn't seen the brat move and now had a wand and one of the deadliest creatures in existence pointed at him. He very carefully moved his hand away from his own wand and settle back into his corner. The brat only lowered, not holstered, the wand once he had stopped moving.

“Harry, I'm afraid you can't keep the snake,” Dumbledore sighed as though it was a painful thing to explain, easily avoiding everything that had been brought up that he didn't want to talk about. “It's too dangerous. Severus here will keep it instead.”

“What, so he can render her down to ingredients?” Harry sneered at the Headmaster, the look completely breaking his role as the Gryffindor Golden Boy. “Not a chance. Esmeralda is my bonded and she stays with me. The Charter says so and it's even a part of the Magnus Magna Carta of the Wizards' Council. An attempt on the life of a bonded animal is seen as a threat to the life of the wizard or witch to which they're bonded, meaning both can strike back with deadly force.”

“Harry...”

“Push me on this, Dumbledore, and I'll bring you up on charges of breaking the Law of the Council,” Harry snarled, sitting forward to stare into the old man's eyes so there would be no mistaking his willingness to go through with the threat. “And we both know that there's more than a threat to a bonded that can be heard then.”

“You can go, Mister Potter,” the Headmaster replied in a hard voice that only had Harry smirking even more. Round one to the green-eyed snake.

Salazar rose and walked backwards towards the door, never taking his eyes off the two men. It was a warrior's retreat in case of a backstab and they all knew it. The fact that Harry felt the need for such an act proved just how disastrous a meeting it had turned out to be.

Dumbledore waited until he knew Harry was beyond the gargoyle before losing control. “What the hell do you think you're doing tell him those things?”

“Don't think to intimidate me, _boy,”_ Sebastian snapped back with glee at the old man's anger. “Greater snots than you have tried and I'm still here. I told him exactly what I felt he needed to know and nothing less.”

“Arrogant brat!” Snape snarled, once again brave now that the vision of death wasn't staring him down. “He's trying to rule the school like his father.”

Sebastian laughed, knowing full well Harry could take control of Hogwarts if he desired. “I hope you try something, you little shit. I really do. That way I'll get to see exactly what he does to you.”

“Enough!” Dumbledore roared, and Sebastian snickered at the temper tantrum while Snape flinched. “We obviously can't take the basilisk, Severus. And I still have not found a way into the Chamber that doesn't involve destroying everything from the bathroom on down.”

“I don't think it matters,” Snape commented after a minute's consideration. Dumbledore blinked at the station and waited for his trusted Potions Master to continue. “The market has had a very subtle increase in basilisk parts the past month. Nowhere near enough to cause prices to actually drop but certainly more than there has been the same time in previous years.”

“You think the boy already sold the carcass?” Dumbledore frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Had Harry truly slipped out of his control so much that he could sell the basilisk's body without him knowing? “How did he get to it?”

“Goblins. They have ways of creating portkeys from a person's memory for such difficult to reach trophies. Obviously, the Chamber is not within the school wards.”

“He's becoming far too independent,” Dumbledore complained, rubbing at his temples to ease the painful throbbing. His anger mixed in with the destruction of his probes had caused a huge migraine, but he dare not let Severus know of the boy's skill. The other man wouldn't believe him in any case. The Headmaster had no doubt it was a skill provided for by the blasted Hat when they were in the Chamber. “I heard a rumour that he's taken up his Potter Lordship but there's been no paperwork filed, not even by the goblins.”

“Then it can't have happened,” Snape replied as though the topic was closed. No Potter would take up their ring without making a big deal about it.

“And yet enough people overhead him dressing down _Augusta Longbottom_ in Diagon Alley,” the pieces were too scattered for Dumbledore to gain a true picture of what had changed with Harry. Was it only the Hat? Could a Horcrux, either the one in his scar or from the dairy, have taken him over? One thing Dumbledore was sure of, something drastic had shifted with the boy. “He even went as far as to threaten removing young Neville from her care if she didn't change her behaviour. We both know a mere boy couldn't get away with that.”

“Has there been any word with the Potter Alliance?” Now Snape was beginning to know fear. If the brat had taken up his ring and knew he had betrayed Lily, the Alliance was strong enough to overrule Albus' protection and have him dragged in chains in front of the DMLE.

“Thankfully nothing so far.”

“Get control of the boy, Albus,” Snape demanded as he made his exit. “And soon before he is beyond even your reach.”

Sebastian's shout of 'Too late' was the last thing the Dungeon Bat heard as he stormed out of the office.

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OoOoO

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_Gryffindor Tower_

“Good evening, Geraldine.”

“And you, my Lord,” the Gryffindor portrait gave Salazar a perfect curtsy as well as an honest smile yet failed to open. Harry felt a weight settle in his stomach even before she continued speaking. “I'm afraid it is a bit of a mess inside, my Lord. Young Weasley is trying to stir the House against you.”

Harry closed his eyes, pinched his nose, and counted to ten, then twenty, in order not to completely lose it with his former friend. “And the rest?”

“My Sleeping Liege and Our Lady of Badgers are doing their best but his paranoia over your House is blinding his mind. The oldest Lions are staying out of it while your year appears ready to follow him.”

“Thank you, Geraldine,” he gave a low bow in gratitude as she opened the portal and then took another deep breath in preparation of another clash. _First night and I'm heading for my second battle. Godric would be **so**_ _proud._ Sal thought as he stalked into the Common Room as though he owned it. Which technically he did until his brother was Awakened.

“Here's the slimy snake!” Ron shouted as soon as he saw Harry. “Been planning how you're going to attack us in our sleep?”

“Right, first things first,” Harry announced in a commanding tone that showed exactly what he felt towards the ginger fool. “All those doing their NEWTs, hands up if you think all Ravens are bookworms who can't understand the real world? Anyone?”

None of the seventh or sixth years reacted. The smartest of the bunch immediately knew where he was going with the question.

“What about all Hufflepuffs being useless duffers? And finally, are all Slytherins evil incarnate?”

“Of course, they are!” Ron bellowed even as a hand had yet to be raised.

“Oli, my good friend,” Harry smiled at his Quidditch Captain. _Shit. Can't throw the match against Slytherin,_ he mentally grumbled before pulling his mind away from House bragging rights. “You're ambitious, aren't ya? You're wanting to play professional, right?”

“Of course, Harry,” Oliver Wood grinned back. His eyes were already shining with the obsessive love of the sport that the Quidditch team knew he possessed. “And I've already got our training schedule worked out for the year.”

The rest of the Quidditch team laughed, jeered, and booed good naturedly.

“Percy, you're ambitious enough to want to be Minister,” the Head Boy nodded, his chest puffed out proudly. “And we both know that involves a lot of _hard work_ as well as knowledge.”

The proud Weasley nodded a second time and now the smarter of the younger Gryffindors saw what Harry was doing. Ron, on the other hand, was getting redder in the face the longer he was being ignored.

“And you'll also need a bit of cunning to deal with all the politics involved, so I wish you good luck.” More good-natured laughter as well a bit of ribbing from the twins at Percy's reaction. Harry looked around the room and as he did, his gaze hardened until the man within was peeking out. “You also need cunning, hard work and knowledge to be as good a Captain as Oliver is. Which means, ladies, gentlemen, and idiots, that beyond this castle, the House divide is non-existent. It's all about what _you_ can bring to your chosen field.

“Ronald here would have you believe that the Houses should never cross over,” the dismissive wave of a hand in Ron's general direction was as insulting as he dared to go for now. “That anyone showing _any_ skill associated with a House that isn't Gryffindor is a traitor and should be outcast.”

“You attacked me, Potter! You're a Dark Lord!” The boy in question finally snapped, falling back on the desperate claims of many throughout history.

“And you called a girl I consider my sister Loony!” Harry snarled in return, his eyes glowing with anger at the mere thought of his sister being hurt. The air began to grow thick and people quickly realised this was not a boy to mess with. “You attack those I consider mine and I come at you with everything I have, Weasley. I warned you last year about that.”

“You've got a ruddy great big snake on your shoulders!”

“I'm a Parselmouth, you moron. It runs in my family from both sides. I'd bet my mother was one as well.”

“Then she was dark and seduced your father. No Potter would willingly be with a Dark Witch!”

The air seemed to be sucked out of the common room as those in attendance blanched at a line that should never be crossed. Even before Harry's Awakening his parents had always been a sore spot but now it was even worse. Sal's magic flared wildly to colour the very air in Killing Curse green and the castle rumbled beneath their feet. Suddenly a familiar holly wand was in Harry's hand and Ron lost control of his bladder as he watched his death stalk towards him. Those closest wrinkled their noses at the heavy stink of urine.

Hermione and Neville were up and moving before they had a rational thought between them. The crowd of Gryffindors had parted to leave a now pale Ronald Weasley alone to face the fury of Harry Potter.

“Harry, don't. Please, don't,” Hermione's tear-filled plea barely registered through Harry's fury. Instead it was the calming touch of his brother that held his blade.

“Not here, brother, not now,” Neville whispered quickly, using all of his etiquette lessons in order to keep his friend from making a huge mistake. “You can't kill him here, not without them throwing you in Azkaban.”

Harry stopped at the words and looked deep into the soft royal blue eyes of his brother in heart. The part-insanity and part-rage that had always lurked beneath the outward masks of both Salazar Antioch Slytherin and Harry James Potter retreated at the cold logic when the emotional tears of Hermione were barely registered. Sal turned his attention to the other Weasley sons who had all taken on the paleness of their youngest brother.

“It was Lily Evans who used powerful magic that night. Lily Evans who used her own life as the final piece to save her only child and end a Blood War that had been going for eleven years,” Harry's voice was ice cold and caused all those who listened to shiver at its emptiness. “Your brother just besmirched my mother's honour, my family's honour, _my_ honour.”

The words were like physical slaps to those who understood exactly what he was saying. When his intense gaze focused on the twins they were seconds away from wetting themselves.

“You two and the idiot potentially saved my life last summer and that just saved _his_ life. Warn your parents, boys. I'm one step away from calling a Blood Feud on him and any Weasley who stands in my way.”

No one doubted Harry was serious in his claim. Not when he had yet to put away his wand.

“Almost this entire school turned against me when you found out that I'm a Parselmouth,” Harry addressed the rest of the room with a sneer that was Snape worthy. “And Ronald here was trying to get you to treat me like that again. Why? Because the man you all fear, the wizard you all call _You-Know-Who,_ spoke to snakes.”

The disgust Sal felt at the use of the public given nom de guerre was evident to all.

“He was also right handed. Does that mean that every right-handed person here is a Dark Lord or Lady in the making?”

Neville released his arm when he saw Harry's attention was on the crowd and not Weasley. The stick of holly was automatically sheathed as though Harry had done it a thousand times before. Neither Neville nor Hermione moved away from Harry in case the idiot spoke up.

“How would you know what hand he was?” Ron stupidly asked, and both winced at the voice, worried that it would push Harry back to that mindless state.

“Because I had to fucking face his spirit last year when I saved your bloody sister,” Harry snarled back, taking pleasure in how fast Ron shrunk back on himself at the memory. “I faced off against a thousand-year-old basilisk and almost _died_ while it was under the control of a memory of Voldemort.”

It showed how caught up everyone was in Harry's performance that there were barely any shudders at the sound of the hated name. He lifted his arm and pulled back the sleeve to reveal the scar left from Slinky's bite.

“Phoenix tears, the only known substance in the world to cure someone bitten by a basilisk. _Which I was!_ ” All true though not actually how he was able to survive. “While you're trying to lambaste me for being who I am, remember who sent a first year crying into a girl's toilet and was going to _leave her_ to a fucking troll even when I had to remind you she wasn't in the Hall.”

Gasps went up as Harry revealed Ron's reluctance to rescue Hermione. The story of that night had been repeated many times but never with that single truth.

“Remember it was _me_ who risked his life to save her. It was _me_ who risked his life last year to save Ginny and everyone else in this school from a creature that can kill with its gaze.”

The mood had partially shifted as Harry vented. The older students were being treated to a front row seat of Harry's true personality and there was pride mixed in with the shock to what they were hearing. The first and second years were simply in awe that the Boy-Who-Lived was as brave and as powerful as all the books had promised.

“You want to hate me for talking to snakes? You want to hate me for being able to see past House rivalries and admit that there are good and bad people in every House? _Fine!_ ” Harry eyes had narrowed until they were glowing slits of danger and his two friends were ready to jump him if he looked to be bringing the wand back out. “But don't try to dress it up as anything more than what it is. Jealousy, bigotry and idiocy.”

It was with one final glare around the room and suddenly people knew they were trapped with an apex predator.

“Esmeralda is bonded to me. She's dangerous only to those who threaten me or mine, otherwise she's placid and enjoys a good scratch,” he explained in a harsh snarl. The rage was a living, breathing thing inside of him that was desperate to break free again. “A bonded animal cannot, I repeat cannot, ignore a direct order from their human. She's been ordered not to hurt anyone without direct provocation.”

He shot a final glare at the other Weasleys and all three boys stood taller to unconsciously show they were listening. “Keep him in line. I will not tolerate another attack on my honour nor him trying to turn this House against me or my friends. This is his final warning.”

Harry turned away from the gingers and stalked towards one of the sofas by the fireplace and students rushed to get out of his way. Hermione and Neville followed while Ron was dragged by his brothers up to one of the dorms for a family conference. A white-faced Ginny practically ran in order to get her say on their idiot sibling. The silence of the common room lasted until the three settled in their seats and then the rush of whispers and animated conversations rose around them.

Sal spent a few minutes staring into the flames as his friends waited. Hermione was ready to burst with questions and comments but was glared at by Neville each time she went to speak.

“You'd better explain it, Nev,” Harry sighed once his Occlumency had corralled the rampaging fury that lived within his soul. He sounded exhausted instead of angry and Esmeralda gently squeezed his shoulders in a show of support. The basilisk had known any act on her part during the confrontation would have been detrimental to her bonded.

Neville simply gave a firm nod and a look of determination took over his cherub features. The changes Harry had brought about since his Diagon Alley intervention had continued, allowing the boy to grow into his legacy and for that Neville would always have Harry's side. The difference from the quiet Gryffindor Hermione had always known took the girl by surprise and so neither noticed the powerful wandless privacy charms springing up around them.

“In many ways the Wizarding World is all about honour,.” he explained with a look that showed equal parts admiration and distaste. “And nothing is more absolute than the honour of the family, the House. Most are still so ashamed of having a squib they cast them out of the family as soon as its obvious they don't have magic.”

“That's what you meant during our first feast!” Hermione gasped, both hands covering her mouth in horror. Neville only looked sad at the reminder.

“As Harry said earlier, Ron was trying to turn Gryffindor against him and something like that could lead to drastic changes in how the Potter family is treated by families outside of Hogwarts. People have been killed over less than what Ron said about Lady Potter.”

“How do you remember what he said during our first Feast? You were talking to Percy at the time.”

Hermione had the good graces to blush furiously under the attention. There was a moment's silence as Hermione warred with herself before she sighed and revealed something she had never told anyone.

“I have an eidetic memory,” she softly told them, eyeing the other Gryffindors in worry at being overheard. “But it doesn't act like all the recorded cases I've read about. I'm able to keep hold of the image for far longer than I should be. I use it to review instances where conversations are going on around me in case I miss something important.”

It was Neville's turn to frown as he thought over what the bushy-haired girl had explained, and he related it to the only thing he had been taught. “It sounds like natural Occlumency.”

Hermione perked up when it was obvious they wouldn't be shunning her for something that even set her apart from the Magical world. While Harry Potter might not have had anything to add to the conversation, Salazar Slytherin, Master of the Mind-Arts, certainly did.

“It is, and it isn't. Those without magic have mental disciplines that enable them to have almost perfect recall, organising their thoughts and helping them control their emotions. When you include magic into the mix, it turns it into something else,” now both Hermione and Neville were looking at Harry. The former as though he was an undiscovered tome of hidden knowledge while the latter was once again blown away at how much the young Lord knew about their world. “Hermione wouldn't be classed as a natural Occlumens as the eidetic memory doesn't hide her thoughts from a Legilimency probe even though it works the same in other areas.”

“Wait, what's this Occlumency and Legilimency?”

“Occlumency helps you organise your thoughts and protects them from people taking them from your mind,” Neville explained after shaking himself down. Sometimes he truly wondered how old Harry was when he came out with things like that. “Legilimency is when you use your magic to go inside someone's mind.”

“Mind-reading?” She squeaked only for Harry to shake his head at the common misconception.

“That's a rudimentary label to describe a much more powerful topic. Legilimency allows someone to use their magic to skim your thoughts, delve deeper into your mind, and potentially change the very foundations of your personality,” which was why Salazar had _always_ taught his students the year before they became legal adults. They needed the protections before facing the outside world and those who would abuse their minds. “Occlumency is a magically boosted version of your memory while also creating magical barriers around your mind to keep it safe. For some reason neither Hogwarts nor Flourish and Blotts have anything useful on the subjects. I'll give you a book I've got that explains everything and can give you help if you need it. I have a second copy for you, Nev, so you can brush up on it. Both the Headmaster and Snape have no qualms about doing surface Legilimency probes.”

Hermione's emotions had run the gamut as the two boys explained the Mind Arts to her. She went from shock to wonder to horror at such an invasion of privacy only to sore with delight at getting her hands on the book and then crash and burn at being told two teachers were performing the dangerous magic on students.

“Are you sure, Harry?” Neville was more saddened than shocked at the information. As a Pure-blood heir he was well aware of the advantage of reading a child's mind.

“Positive. I felt some probes in my meeting with the Headmaster and Snape was there.”

“That's illegal!” She almost shrieked only to quickly wilt as a worrying idea rose its ugly head. “It _is_ illegal, isn't it?”

“It is,” Neville explained with a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes as the evening seemed to continue spiralling. “But it's also hard to prove. The wandless attempts are even more so as it becomes a case of he-said, he-said. Gran taught me the basics, Pure-blood necessity and all that, but I think I should look at that book in case there's more I don't know.”

Harry saw the questions in Hermione's eyes and headed them off.

“Pure-bloods do a lot of business and make a lot of deals at home. Imagine a potential client or competitor able to take important secrets from a child's mind during a meeting.”

She made an 'oh' with her mouth, any rant over Pure-bloods getting a better education momentarily derailed. She knew that some Muggle children learned how to keep secrets when their parents worked in high security jobs.

Not that Harry would argue her point on the general bias of the Wizarding World.

“Why do you think he didn't have Luna there?” Neville frowned, not wanting the wonderful blonde under attention yet not liking how his friend was being singled out.

“Control,” Harry shrugged as though the answer was perfectly obvious. The tension had gradually faded until he could lean back in the chair to look at both his friends. Esmeralda stretched out along the back of the chair with a watchful eye in case anyone got too close. “Dumbledore is the one who put me with the Dursleys, hasn't made any attempt to teach me about my family, and now tries to take my bonded away. For some reason he wants to control me.”

They debated over why Dumbledore wanted such tight control and what he got out of it until Hermione musing was interrupted by a large yawn. The impromptu meeting broke up after that as the three realised how late it had got. The common room was empty, and the trio made plans to meet up soon to finish the talk with the unsaid promises of Harry giving more answers. He quickly got the two books and gave them to his friends and his heart melted at the starry-eyed glaze Hermione's cute features took on even before hers was handed over.

Sal then made sure to stay awake until the rest of his dorm were noisily snoring away. He disillusioned himself and edged out of his bed, slowly stalking towards Ron's and the rat laying on top. A quick silent summon and stun and the fake animal was his prisoner. He then, just as carefully, made his way back into the Common Room to call for Dobby.

“It's an Animagus, Dobby,” Dobby's eyes narrowed with suspicion and anger at the rat for daring to go near his Master Harry. “I want you to put it in stasis in my Chamber. It absolutely cannot be allowed to get free.”

“Yes, Master Harry!” The determined elf agreed and popped away with the imposter. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and headed back to bed, happy that at least one problem had been solved.

Just as Harry was about to fall asleep he had a realisation and quickly pulled out his Blackthorn wand. A highly difficult transfiguration of some parchment later and an exact copy of Scabbers was back on Ron's chest. He had spelled the imitation to wait until Ron woke and then make a big scene of running off.

Esmeralda being accused of eating the damn thing would be all the opening Dumbledore needed to cause more issues.

.

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OoOoO

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_2 nd September 1993_

The running of Wizarding Britain had always been a strange and wondrous beast. For the most part. Sometimes. Maybe.

The idea of the Wizards' Council was a fledgling concept when Salazar was living his original life alongside his three closest friends. Way back then it was more that Magicals attempted to work alongside the leaders of the Vernaculi - Sal refused to use the modern terms for those without magic – while staying away from the more insane members of the common people. When the Normans invaded and brought their idea of central ruling into Britain, they also brought likeminded Magicals who pushed for a core leadership.

The Founders of Hogwarts had been sounded out as becoming the co-Founders of the Wizards' Council alongside some of the most powerful names in the country's history. Using the larger than life image of Godric, Helga's ability to talk around anyone until they agreed just to shut her up, Ro's Sight and Sal's viciousness, the four friends were able to write into the Council's Charter key ideas and concepts that couldn't be taken out without an agreement of nine-tenths of the core bloodlines. It had been a huge struggle for the friends to get what they wanted included in the Magus Magna Carta but the blood, sweat and tears had been worth it. When the Council then became the Wizengamot all their hard work had simply been absorbed into the new system and then again into the Ministry of Magic.

The Wizengamot itself had a regular meeting schedule on the 27th \- the third third - of every month that was usually half filled at best. There were four meetings that were mandatory for all members taking place on both equinoxes and solstices and these four were also when new members could be introduced. A new law could only be put up for assessment within any session, giving the missing members between one and three months to build up a case for or against the proposition. Aside from any emergency meetings, there was one more meeting that suited Salazar’s plans perfectly.

Namely, the Headmaster of Hogwarts would visit the Wizengamot the morning after the Sorting to speak about their vision for the coming educational year. The meeting was held extremely early for the Headmaster to get back to Hogwarts before the start of class and was, at best, a time-waster for those involved.

Sal chuckled to himself as he walked through the empty halls. He wondered what all the pompous idiots who followed the tradition would think if they knew it only came about through Godric placing bets with some of the parents about how well their children would do the coming year. The meeting's partner at the end of the year was really the reckoning of the debts with the losers paying for the drinks.

Harry shook his head at his wayward thoughts. The important thing was that, at six in the morning, Albus Dumbledore was out of Hogwarts long enough for Harry to bond with the school and her wards. And there was only one place Sal felt comfortable in doing so.

There was no way the Awakened Founder would go anywhere near the Great Hall that hid the entrance to the castle's Heartstone. It had layers of protection that dwarfed those of the school’s in both power and lethality, and that was back when Salazar had helped build her with his blood and magic. There was no doubt in the Lord Slytherin's mind that Dumbledore would be immediately alerted to someone trying to access the Heartstone's room. After all, the four friends had made it so that they would all be informed whenever one of them went near it. They might have been friends and family, but they wouldn't have allowed even one of their own total control over the school.

But there was a way past most of those protections. A way that Rowena had created for the good of all in case their beloved Cassie ever fell to enemy hands. It was with silent feet that Harry left Gryffindor Tower and took secret shortcuts up to the mostly abandoned seventh floor of the castle proper. Harry wasn't surprised to see a dirty blonde waiting for him though why she was studying the painting of Barnabas the Barmy was anyone's guess.

“I've always hated that thing,” Harry announced his presence to his quietly humming sister. “It was a stupid wedding present.”

“You only hate it because Helga wasn't the one who walked down the aisle.”

The pain of Luna's words briefly flared to life, but it was an ache he had long grown accustomed to.

“Belladonna was a good wife and a good mother. She didn't deserve a man who loved another,” the self-sacrificing trait burned just as strongly in either of Harry's lives and Salazar had done his best for his wife regardless of his feelings for his fellow Founder.

“She was a good woman and you loved her. She knew that, Sal,” Ro told him with no trace of her dreamy expression anywhere. Instead a power burned in the young Lovegood's eyes that had been feared centuries before.

“Aye. It was a far better situation than you and Godric had.”

The Seer barely winced at the truth. Rowena had known that the legacy of the Raven's Claw would keep her from her beloved's arms. It had been Godric who raged and warred over his arranged marriage. Her loveable Gryffindor would have plunged the world into darkness if she hadn't talked him around. It had been a painful and tear-filled conversation.

“It is why we did what we did, _Broþor,_ ” she answered in a firm tone that announced the subject was closed. Harry merely smiled and gave a small nod before bowing to his dearest friend.

“Would my Lady like the honours?” He asked, and the action held so much of Salazar that for a brief moment all traces of Harry Potter vanished. Luna's heart clenched as memories of happier times threatened to swamp her and she did the only thing she could to keep from crying.

“I think your Lady would,” she playfully sniffed, hoping to hide the lapse in emotional control in case it upset him. “Goddess knows what _you'd_ get if you tried this.”

Harry held his hand over his heart in mock horror as she walked past him to place her palm against her greatest creation. The Many Room was the work of a true master in Enchanting. While her sister's murderer might have been called the Prince of Enchanters it was only because he had stolen many of Rowena's notes on the subject. She had never felt the need to boast about her talents, but the upstart wizard had no compunction when it came to proving his value. Still, it always caused her to smile when she considered how envious Merlin had been when she had shown him the Room before her boys kicked him out of their home.

She had spent months working on the Room. She had pushed expansion charms to their limits and then beyond, mixing in illusionary magic with conjuration and even partial sentience so the Room was able to provide exactly what was requested. The only way to access the Room was through walking past its opening three times, each pass having the person ask for what it was they wished for. But for herself and those of Founder blood it was different. A simple touch and mental command and all the power of the school shifted to provide what was required.

“Show me your Heart,” she whispered to their child as her palm contacted stone. She felt the school's pulse - living magic drawn directly from the overlapping Ley Lines beneath the building - jump in happiness at her touch. The stone began to ripple, and Luna stepped back to watch with pride shining in her silvery eyes.

The stone wall melted away to reveal a door shaped opening that showed nothing but the blackness of space beyond its borders. It was a portal directly into the Heartstone's room and one that would instantly kill anyone not of Founder blood and purest of intentions. It was a wonderful layer of protection that Helga had insisted on.

Harry was moving before the barrier had fully dissolved. A gentleman towards Ro he might be, but they had been dead for too long for him to allow her to go first. He would not let his sister face a twisted ward. Luna knew all this and allowed him to walk past her and into the void, the darkness rippling as though it was a liquid rather than air. She held her breath and released a heavy sigh when a single arm extended out to offer his right hand.

“Sometimes your protectiveness will be the death of me, Sal,” she murmured to herself as she took the offered hand and was drawn through the barrier into the Heartstone itself.

The room was a perfect square. The dimensions had been measured and remeasured constantly to get right and was carved into the very foundations of the castle. It had been a painstakingly slow process of aligning each surface to perfectly refract the stray magical discharges of the giant quartz crystal that floated in the exact middle of every angle. The crystal glowed with raw magic that was drawn from the Ley Lines and stray magic released by all those who had lived within the school down the centuries. The walls were covered in blood runes, freely given blood of some of the most powerful witches and wizards history had ever known. It wasn't just the Founders but also Morgana Le Fey and her chief disciple, Belladonna Slytherin, had offered up their blood to protect the dream that was Hogwarts. Some of Salazar's Peverell cousins as well as Godric's uncle Uther had also provided their magical essence. All so that the innocent had sanctuary no matter how dark the world outside of Hogwarts' walls became.

“Sal, why are we here?” Luna's fear poured from her, her wide eyes opened almost comically. The portal hadn't brought them to the Heartstone's room but rather placed them _inside_ the stone itself.

Harry flexed the fingers of his right hand and the knuckles cracked with tension. While it had been Rowena and Helga who had built the wardstone surround the School's Heart, it had been Salazar and Godric who had provided the magic to the quartz itself. His mastery of the Mind Magics had been his gift and enabled the castle and Sebastian's sentience. It was with a bravery that would suit his brother-in-arms that Harry stepped closer to his greatest creation, put skin to quartz, and pushed his mind deep into the very soul of Hogwarts.

His body began to glow the same vibrant green of his eyes as his aura reached out to touch the crystal. The pure white colour of the raw magic shifted to match that of its parent's and a sense of happiness filled the room. Luna watched, mesmerised and a little awed at being able to see the bonding between school and her brother. Time seemed to vanish as Cassie passed on everything she needed Harry to know and it only restarted when the green flare faded. Harry opened his eyes, not caring that tears were streaming down his cheeks, and whispered something to the stone that Luna couldn't hear.

“Vindictus Virdian learned how to tap into Cassie's power in order to personally deal with a threat to the school,” Harry said in a voice like death. He had yet to look way from the Heartstone and Luna worried just how much her brother had Seen. “It was what helped bring down the Council and replace it with the Ministry.

“He left his notes behind and _Dumbledore_ found them. He's been slowly draining the wards and Cassie of her power since he took over as Headmaster.” Ro's eyes narrowed, and her magic crackled over his skin at the thought of someone doing that to their home. Harry turned to her and she saw horror etched on his face. “The bastard has completely blocked off the ward stone's room. He plans to use her as his own Philosopher's Stone."

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OoOoO


	6. A Snake's First Strikes

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

The Snake’s First Strikes

 

_2 nd September 1993_

Luna could only stare at Harry. She believed in Sal, she had always believed in her snake-loving brother, but what he had just told her was too horrifying to the Seer. She looked away from his face etched in anger to stare at the Heartstone and listened to its magic. The tears began to fall as her beloved Hogwarts sent her soft pulses that agreed with what she had been told.

“Cassie showed me,” Harry scowled, shaking his head at the sheer foolishness of the Headmaster. “The idiot panicked when he saw what was happening with that waste of my blood Riddle was doing. _Apparently_ only the Great Dumbledore is capable enough of defeating Dark Lords. He saw what Riddle was turning into and rather than warn people, co-opted Cassie's magic for his own use. Yet he _still_ didn't do a damn thing until the Prophecy.”

The last part was spat with such venom that it pulled Ro from her shock.

“No wonder he is so focused on you. The power is destroying his mind,” her pale eyes focused intently on the Awakened Salazar and there was steel in her voice that few ever really heard in either life. “Break his connection, Sal. I will not have that perverted goat herder leeching off our little girl for his own hubris.”

Harry nodded and was turning back to the Heartstone even as Luna continued. “This changes thing. He would feel it if we both merged with the castle. You take control and I'll come back once he's connection has been weakened.”

“Why that way?” Harry frowned, his gaze caught up in the excited glowing of the Heartstone as it eagerly waited to reconnect with one of her fathers. The plan made sense but Sal didn't like his sister being without access to Hogwarts if she was in trouble. As always, Rowena knew which direction his thoughts travelled and answered them.

“Because you'll be dealing with the Wizengamot before I will, and Harry Potter must not appear to be connected to Lord Slytherin. Not yet.”

Harry withdrew a dagger from his robes and slashed it deeply across his left palm. He couldn't fault her logic as control of the wards would allow him to make Dumbledore believe he was still in the castle whenever he needed to leave. An idea came to mind of a long-forgotten spell and Harry smirked as he pressed his bleeding hand against the quartz. He knew the perfect way of doing what needed to be done and still protecting his sister.

The Old Norse chanting rose and fell inside the stone container and Luna heard two voices overlap as her brother reconnected with their castle. The younger voice of Harry Potter and the deeper one of Salazar Slytherin wrapped around the Ravenclaw and promised to always protect her. She kept her pale eyes on Harry rather than the crystal to keep herself grounded and not become lost in the power of the Heartstone. They were the only two who truly knew what the Heartstone was and did, not even the other Founders were aware that the reason Cassie was alive was due to the Heartstone being linked to every mind that had ever walked the walls of Hogwarts. The Heartstone was a powerful weapon that the two had turned into a beautiful living being.

The stone walls vibrated as Harry's magic built up and the runes began to glow the Avada of Slytherin. The Wardstone's outer surface rippled like water as the school's ward structure was changed to fit the commands of Harry Potter. Nothing the old man tried would now work and any attempts to change the wards would be met with instant failure.

There was a reason why they created the Wardstone in the way they did.

Hogwarts' awareness sunk into the back of Harry's mind and he smiled at the familiar feeling. It might take time for the wards to become as powerful as they were supposed to be but the school and her students would once again be the safest in the world. That it also meant Dumbledore's leeching days were over just added to Sal's mood. His final instruction was for the parasitic link between Headmaster and Hogwarts to slowly dissipate to keep him from noticing the change until it was too late.

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It was pushing time for breakfast by the time Harry had reclaimed Hogwarts and the two Awakened Founders walked out of the black hole of a doorway. Harry knew he needed to make a big show of getting Esmeralda out of Gryffindor Tower and gave Luna a kiss on the cheek before mentally commanding Hogwarts to open a passageway to just outside the Common Room. Luna watched her brother stalk away with a whistle on his lips and only looked away when the passageway vanished.

“You can come out now,” she announced to the empty air. Luna turned to look at the dancing trolls and didn't blink when the Grey Lady ghosted through it. “Daughter.”

“Mother.”

Death had not eased the tension between the women as they stared at each other. One was a betrayer, the other had been too lost in her visions to be the type of parent that had been needed.

“You knew who I was,” Rowena announced, thinking over all the times the ghost of her daughter had aided a lost and lonely Luna Lovegood.

“I suspected,” Helena admitted in a tiny voice as silvery tears ran down her transparent cheeks. “I... I wanted to apologise even if you never remembered.”

The silence stretched on. Helena was about to drift off in despair when her reborn mother opened her arms and the ghost daughter of one of the most famous witches in the world swooped forward. Hogwarts, aware and happy at the family reunion, pulled power from the Ley Lines and pushed it into the Ravenclaw ghost to give her body a semblance of substance.

Mother and daughter held each other for what could have been an eternity before they came apart, both with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“I was always proud of you, daughter.”

“Don't, please don't,” Helena pleaded, unable to look Luna in the eyes. The colour might be different but the thoughts behind them were as she had always remembered. “I let him trick me. I let that monster pervert your diadem.”

The Grey Ghost finally released herself of the torment and pain she had carried ever since a young Tom Riddle had sweet-talked her into revealing the secret hiding place of her mother's second greatest creation. Rowena didn't react to the tale, merely asked her daughter to show her where the murderer had hidden it. It was only when the woman in a girl's body saw the darkness around her jewel that she began to swear in Gaelic.

“We knew the diary was one,” she snarled with Bluebell flames dripping from her clawed hands. Seers were wizards and witches of life and nature and the Necromancy that permeated the diadem was repugnant to Luna. “My brother will take great pleasure in cleansing this and hunting down the rest of them.”

The ghost's feral grin was matched only by her Awakened mother's. If any of the Ravenclaw bullies had seen Luna in that moment, they would have been on their knees pleading for a quick death.

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OoOoO

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The rest of Gryffindor were just waking as Harry stepped through the portrait. He made sure to be as loud as possible without it looking forced when he collected his beloved Esmeralda. The other boys eyed the large snake and as luck would have it, Ron woke up long enough to pull the fake Scabbers against his chest in fear for the doomed rat. Harry kept his smirk hidden until he left the tower and then wandlessly covered his bonded with a set of charms that they were well used to. Esmeralda was completely hidden from detection aside from those keyed in and could remain curled around his waist without anyone being the wiser. It had been a trick often used when Salazar had ventured into a populated area.

The imposter rat would make its dash for freedom just as Harry was sitting down for breakfast to leave an angry and bleeding Ron hunting everywhere for his pet. The boy in question was in a foul mood by the time he entered the Great Hall with an angry Hermione not far behind.

“What's wrong?” He asked his best friend and future love, completely ignoring the human waste disposal unit.

“That monster of hers ate Scabbers!” Ron announced to the world rather than give Hermione the chance to answer. His anger over the lost rat apparently overriding the fact their friendship was over. Hermione's hand had snapped around and she was ready to bite the ginger's head off when she felt the calloused touch of Harry's hand on hers.

“Did you actually see this?” Harry asked in a deceptively innocent tone that didn't fool either Hermione or Neville. Luna took that moment to arrive and Sal frowned when he saw the small tightness around her eyes that told him she was upset. His anger at Ron's treatment of Hermione only grew as he wondered which student he needed to hurt for daring to upset his little sister. Harry had to force his attention back to Weasley as the boy reddened with anger and the innocent tone vanished to be replaced with a snarl. “Or did the rat run off and you're lashing out like usual?”

The Weasley explosion was halted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall with their timetables. Harry noticed a massive clash on Hermione's schedule and frowned, the worry over how she would handle the workload growing the more she defended it. Harry could only sigh and turn to his sister for help in the headache of dealing with, and being a, teenager.

“And how's Moirai this morning, Lu?” The secret question of _what's wrong_ hanging between them.

Hermione stiffened at the reminder of their snakes and decided to head to class rather than hear the rest of the conversation.

“She's fine, Harry,” Luna smiled as she looked to make a smiling face of her breakfast. “I left her sleeping on my trunk.”

That his little Raven had warded both to high heaven as well as the runespoor being used as a threat against any thieves went unsaid between the two.

 

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The first day of classes were going as well as Harry could have hoped without learning what had upset Luna. Sal made sure to talk to those in the other Houses he knew, even if it was mostly by sight, to begin the process of widening 'Harry Potter's' circle of friends. He knew that even with the other Founders awakened, it wouldn't do for him to slip back into his loner personality. It was the first Potions class of the new school year that things got interesting.

Harry was attempting to draw the Slytherins into a conversation when Snape slammed open the classroom door and gave him a glare worthy of Vernon Dursley. Harry merely smirked back with a raised eyebrow as though daring the man to say something.

“All of you, in the class now,” Snape snarled, and Harry couldn't help chuckle at the bully's attempt at dominance.

The lesson began with everyone placing their summer assignments on Snape's desk. Sal barely kept himself from cackling at the thought of how the arrogant ignoramus would react to his essay. Harry's good mood quickly dropped when they began the first of many poison antidotes.

Harry had not bothered going through his memory of Snape's classes once the memories of Salazar had been awakened and cursed himself for not doing so. The instructions on the board were wrong, subtly so but still wrong enough that a perfect potion would not be brewed. A quick scan of his textbook had the error corrected yet told them to chop the Dragon Thorax when it should be grounded.

Sal frowned. The answers to why two separate instructions on how to brew a simple Pepper-Up overdose antidote were wrong in different areas were not pleasing to the Potions Master. Something was tingling at the end of his awareness and he activated his Mage Sight, only to blink in surprise when every Slytherin textbook showed an obvious powerful glamour.

Harry's inattention to the work had been picked up by Snape who initially was mentally crowing with glee at being able to put the brat in his place. That pleasure was brought to a screeching halt when it became clear that the boy had worked out something Snape hadn't wanted known.

“Excuse me, Miss Greengrass,” Harry spoke as he made his way over to the cool, calm, and collected Ice Queen of Slytherin. “Forgive me but I need to check something.”

“Potter!”

Snape's call came too late as Harry reached out to pick up Greengrass' textbook. He pushed magic through his fingers to the point of overpowering the glamour. What was revealed was a far more up to date and detailed textbook that could turn someone from a complete noob into a NEWT passing Potioneer.

“Well...” Sal drawled as he glared at the dark-eyed bastard in front of him. He waved the book in the air so that the Gryffindors could see it was different to their own. “Not content with not actually teaching us anything, it seems you're actually deliberately trying to fail three quarters of the school.”

“Get back to your table, Potter! Fifteen points from Gryffindor and detention with me for disturbing the class.”

“You don't teach, you don't make adequate protections in cause of accidents, and you're obviously supplying non Slytherins with inferior teaching aid to keep them passing this class. Just why the hell are you in Hogwarts, Snape?”

By this time even Ron Weasley had worked out that the book in Harry's hand was different to the one he used. Hermione was caught between being shocked at Harry's attitude to a teacher and dismay that a teacher was deliberately causing her to not learn properly. The man in question snarled at the arrogant boy and his eyes darkened just as a wandless Legilimency attack was attempted.

Sal felt the man's touch and smirked just enough to piss Snape off more before hitting the probe with a bolt of mental magic that sent Snape staggering back into the blackboard. The Slytherin Pure-bloods knew exactly what had happened and gasped at the power Harry had shown.

“That's it, you arrogant shit! I'll see you expelled for this. You're coming with me to Dumbledore, I'll get your wand snapped before the day is out!”

Harry merely turned back to the shocked Greengrass heiress and handed back her book with a dazzling smile.

“Thank you for the loan, Miss Greengrass,” he said with a cheery tone. Snape had marched over to grab hold of Harry's robe to drag him to Dumbledore's office only to find his wrist smacked away by a viscous backhand that caused the man’s fingers to go numb. “I think seeing the Headmaster would be a wonderful thing, Snape. I'm sure he'd be happy to know what an abusive arse his little pet has become.”

Snape looked as though he was about to collapse from all the blood rushing to his head, yet Harry merely began to whistle and skipped out of the classroom before the older man could retaliate. The Hogwarts Dudgeon Bat was forced to race after the spawn of his hated enemy to leave a stunned classroom behind. No one knew what had happened but they all felt something dramatic had taken place.

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OoOoO

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It was a tense walk to Dumbledore's office with Harry having to skip out of Snape's grasp more than once. A vein was pounding in the man's forehead to the point where Sal began to wonder if he could induce a stroke in someone without using magic or potions. It would certainly be an interesting experiment.

The current Slytherin Head of House was stunned to find his Gryffindor opposite waiting for them at the griffin guard.

“Mister Potter, it is only the first day,” McGonagall sighed at seeing her lion with an obviously irate Professor Snape. “Just what could you have done to warrant this?”

“Come to save your precious Potter have you, Minerva?” Snape sneered, snapping out the password to the griffin before she had a chance to reply. The Scotswoman was taken aback by the rage pouring off her colleague and even more stunned by the casual way her lion was treating the entire situation.

Dumbledore was surprised by the three visitors and it would be an understatement to say the man was looking a little put out. Harry could see anger and confusion in the twinkling eyes as well as a few more lines on his face as the man was forced to live without feasting off Sal's beloved daughter.

“Come in, come in,” the Chief Warlock smiled and even McGonagall picked up on how strained it was. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The question was all Snape needed to go into a full rant while Harry merely stood at parade rest, staring over the head of one of the men he wished so desperately to kill. The portraits of the previous Heads hid their awe well, but it was still there as they took in the new version of Salazar Slytherin. Phineas Nigellus Black was positively cackling at what Harry was doing even if it was to his old House.

Dumbledore only turned to his Deputy Headmistress when Snape's diatribe seemed to not be running out of steam even though it had devolved into personal attacks and repetition of complaints.

“And you, Minerva?” He asked, cutting Snape off mid rant. McGonagall had gone pale at the things Snape had ranted off and Harry fought back a smirk.

“Hogwarts insisted that I was needed, Albus,” she informed her boss, the Scottish accent coming out in full force when it became obvious he had no interest in curbing Snape's rambling. “And I can fully see why. Severus, you will control yourself when speaking about a student or I'll have you on probation!”

“Hogwarts?” Dumbledore was so shocked that the school had interfered that he missed protecting Snape.

“I wonder if anyone is going to actually ask _me_ what happened,” Harry mused aloud to protect his Head of House. “And Mister Snape, the fact you are this emotional while knowing Occlumency and Legilimency means you're either incompetent at both or an emotional lunatic. I'm not sure what I pity more.”

“Why you...”

“Enough!” McGonagall snapped before the greasy git could. The fact his hand was twitching for his wand worried her greatly. “That is no way to speak to a teacher, Mister Potter. However, considering Professor Snape's verbal tirade I'll let it go. Now please, tell me exactly what happened today.”

“Of course, Professor,” Harry said in his most innocent voice, giving her a smile that was part angelic and part twisted. It was a look she had seen on two other young boys years prior. “And I haven't invited you into my mind, Professor Dumbledore.”

“Albus!” She snapped. The man winced at both the volume and the fact his probe had been painfully slapped down. “Behave yourself!”

“It's simple, Professor. I noticed that the instructions on the board were slightly wrong for the potion we were supposed to be brewing today. Not enough to ruin the brewing process but certainly enough that Mister Snape's demanding level of quality couldn't be achieved. Then I noticed our books were also incorrect only in another area that would again produce less than perfect results. You can imagine my surprise when I found that the Slytherins were in possession of a glamoured book, namely _Drafts and Potions: Mastery in a Bottle_ where all errors had been corrected. Considering _all_ Slytherins had the updated text and the instructions given by Snape were also in error...”

“Professor Snape, Harry,” Dumbledore attempted to interrupt.

“...I could only come to the conclusions that all non-Slytherins are being deliberately held back from learning the wonderful art of Potions. That's when Snape attempted a Legilimency attack. As such I am informing you, my Head of House, that I will be activating the Hogwarts Charter in relation to students unable to work with a teacher. I will now be self-studying Potions with any other student who wishes to join me and will fully submit myself to random tests to prove I am not simply wasting time.”

“Arrogant brat thinking you can...”

“I'm afraid you can't do that...”

Dumbledore and Snape ranted over each other while McGonagall locked eyes with her student. It might not be well known but it was certainly allowed for a student to have a private tutor rather than attending normal classes. What was even less known was the rule Harry had just announced, namely that the student could self-study but at the cost of maintaining an Exceeds on all snap tests. For the first time in a long time, Minerva McGonagall thought beyond her mentor's wishes.

“Do you really think you can do this on your own, Harry?”

“Of course he can't!”

“Now Minerva...”

“I promise you, Professor,” Harry held back any amusement at the idea of him failing Potions. He knew the woman was now putting herself on a limb for him and he was grateful for her belief in Harry Potter the young man rather than the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Then get yourself to lunch, Mister Potter. I need to speak with the Headmaster and Professor Snape about their attitude towards students.”

Salazar gave her a deep bow of respect and left the office without even glancing at the two men. It was only his connection to Hogwarts that allowed him to feel Phineas Nigellus race out of his frame so he could laugh wildly at just how _Slytherin_ Harry had been.

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_6 th September 1993_

Some might suspect Harry would be bored of attending third year classes. It certainly helped being within his beloved Hogwarts, while being around his friends, and new acquaintances he was determined to forge, also aided against the malaise. Yet the biggest reason for Sal's lack of boredom came in the simple fact he was assessing every single teacher for when he and his friends took back control of their school. Personality, teaching style, and even their personal thoughts on magic carefully worked out through innocuous questions by both himself and Luna were all being used as a foundation for future actions.

Another thing keeping Harry's amusement levels up were the blips he felt from the wards every time Dumbledore attempted to redo the leeching cluster. The old man had tried multiple times a day and every meal would see the anger and frustration in those damned eyes growing much to Harry and Luna's delight. Harry had made it so that the old man was only getting the barest information from the wards rather than the constant flow of information he used to receive. _Serve the bastard right,_ had been a constant thought of both Awakened Founders.

Word had quickly got around the school about what happened in Potions and the subject had been cancelled until the school every non-Slytherin in all years had been given the proper book. The rumour mill was positive the expense was coming out of Snape's budget which only increased Harry's amusement. According to a letter Neville received from his Gran, the Hogwarts Board had an emergency meeting demanding to know what was going on and not even the combined power of Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore could keep Snape from coming under fire. It didn’t help the greasy-haired man that his two advocates were also at each other’s throats with Malfoy trying to use the situation to oust the Headmaster.

Salazar found the politics highly amusing while still pulling Neville out of Potions, much to Hermione’s despair. Sal didn’t care, he was going to tutor his brother and help repair the boy’s confidence so that Neville wouldn’t have to lean on Godric’s personality as much as Harry was with Salazar.

He had just come from a very interesting Ancient Runes class and was settling himself into a front row seat for watching Professor McGonagall when the Divination group arrived with a frustrated looking Hermione. The fact that she was talking as though she had been in the Divination class even though he had sat beside her in Ancient Runes was the final straw for Harry.

It was with a growing dread that Sal reached out to his connection with the wards and had them scan the grounds for time-based magic. It was actually a ward Godric had insisted upon after one of his students thought it was possible to redo an exam through the use of a time-turner. The exam in question was a practical and Godric had not been amused when a second version of the idiot showed up half-way through. Needless to say, the fool had been given to Salazar for punishment.

The search 'pinged' one result and Harry bit back a groan, fighting the urge to hit his head on the desk at the foolishness of giving someone such an artefact simply to be able to attend more classes. He was pulled from his dark thoughts when McGonagall snapped at the class for the inattention, especially after properly showing off her Animagus ability.

“Not that it matters, but that was the first time my transformation has not got an applause,” she stated with a frown of confusion. “Just what is wrong with you all?”

It was Hermione who raised a hand, confirming Harry's fears about what his Helga had been given.

“Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination lesson and...”

“Say no more, Miss Granger,” McGonagall interrupted with a wave of the hand. “Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”

All eyes turned to Harry who gave a huge sigh.

“Well that's it then, Professor,” he said in a resigned voice, standing as though to leave the classroom. “I'm off to leave this mortal coil. Hopefully I can find a comfortable place to rest before I do.”

“Sit down, Mister Potter,” McGonagall's eyes were shining with barely contained mirth and the corner of her mouth twitched as though she was fighting off a smile. “You look perfectly healthy to me so I'm afraid you'll have to still do your homework.”

She turned to the rest of the class who were looking at the two as though they had grown extra heads.

“Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she entered this school and each one left perfectly healthy. Seeing Death Omens is her favourite way of welcoming a new class,” here the Transfiguration Professor shook her head as the students took in her words. “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. However, if you do happen to die Mister Potter then I'll give you an extension.”

This had the class laughing and all tension from the Divination group bled away as everyone got involved in the actual subject. Harry was asked to stay after the class and he stood to attention as his Head of House took in his changed appearance.

“I want to thank you, Mister Potter,” McGonagall didn't even try hiding the pride she felt towards the boy in front of her. His change in attitude towards school and making friends warmed her heart even if he did seem to be causing more issues than she would like. “I do wish Professor Trelawney would stop her 'predictions' so you helping break the mood today was appreciated. Five points to Gryffindor.”

“You're welcome, Professor. I personally don't see the point of anyone taking the class unless they actually have the Sight but that's me,” he gave a shrug as he continued the mini-rant that was also pleased the older woman. “I also know that true predictions are usually vague and subject to change rather than the direct things that seem to be announced in that class.”

Which was true. It was only people like his Ro who could see multiple possibilities who had the ability to get direct predictions. Otherwise, even Oracles were forced to word their visions into ambiguous riddles. Professor McGonagall was silent as she looked at one of her favourite lions. The woman knew something had dramatically changed with Harry over the summer that went beyond the far healthier look. She didn't know what it was, but it pleased her nonetheless.

“Mister Potter, Harry, I can't help but notice how much you've taken Mister Longbottom under your wing,” the Transfiguration Professor actually looked nervous and Harry wondered just where she was going with the conversation. “I also heard that you had a confrontation with Augusta Longbottom over the summer. Would you appease an old woman's curiosity and tell me what happened?”

McGonagall knew she was pushing her luck. Her long-time friend had ranted and raved about Potter's dressing down without going into details. Yet Augusta had ultimately sighed and admitted it was exactly what she needed to hear. To Harry's credit he didn't seem to take offence. He merely smirked at the memory and began talking.

“I reminded her just how tightly our two families are bound, Professor, and that I see Neville as my brother in all but blood. That caught her attention,” _yes, I'm sure it did,_ Minerva thought. It was a phrase she had heard from another Potter and it caused her heart to clench tightly. “I also told her that I refused to allow Neville's confidence to be destroyed the way the Longbottom family had been doing over the years. That I don't care if I had to face down her, the Wizengamot, a hundred Dark Lords or even Hell itself, I would do so for my brother to get the respect his power and spirit deserve as well as make sure he has the best chance at a full and happy life.”

By the time Harry had finished his eyes were glowing and his hair shifted in a magical breeze. Minerva could only smile at the protectiveness he showed towards a fellow lion and nodded her head in gratitude to answering her question. “Thank you and that will be all, Mister Potter. Enjoy your lunch.”

He gave her a jaunty salute that got a small smile in return and made to dash out of the room to hunt down his Helga. He paused just long enough to leave his Head of House with a parting comment.

“And you're not _that_ old, Minnie.”

His laughter stayed after he vanished and she snorted at the boy's cheek.

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OoOoO

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.

Lunch was quick. Luna looked at her brother and then towards Hermione, understanding in her own way that something was about to be done. The wound between mother and daughter had kept Luna silent over revealing her diadem had been turned into one of the Horcruxes but she knew it needed to be done. With Harry seemingly about to confront Hermione over the other girl's confusing aura, it caused Luna to sigh and turn to only the second man that she fully trusted.

“I need to show you something after classes.”

Harry looked into his sister's pale eyes and saw fear mixing with anger. He immediately took her hand in his own and squeezed, silently promising to be there for her no matter what was going on. She gave a weak smile back and he knew that was all he would get for now.

It was then a determined Harry who stood and then leaned down to whisper in Hermione's ear. “We need to talk. _Now_.”

Hermione was stunned at the venom in her best friend's voice and was rising before she even nodded an agreement. He led her into a nearby classroom and silently commanded Hogwarts to secure it from eavesdroppers. She didn't notice the slight shimmer of wards, her entire focus was on an obviously angry Harry and Hermione chewed her lower lip trying to work out what had set him off.

“I need to know something, Hermione,” he explained, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. “Did the idiots in this school actually _explain_ to you the dangers of what you're doing?”

“Harry?”

“Did they explain that for every hour you turn back, your body needs an hour and a half of rest and relaxation?” He snapped, spinning to fully face his best friend. Her jaw dropped at the fact he knew she had a time-turner after only four days of school and then her brain began to catch up to his rant. “That you need to eat and sleep more because you're living twice as long each time you spin? That if you don't then at the very least you'll suffer a nervous breakdown?”

“How did you...what do you mean?” She struggled in getting out her questions.

“I worked out you've got a turner and did research,” he quickly answered so not to get side-tracked. “The turner puts your body under stress, using your own magic as a guide to travelling back in time. That puts pressure on your mind and body because you're in more than one place at the same time. And if it's a Ministry made turner than your magic and body are also being frozen to keep you from ageing. That's even _more_ stress and all for what, Hermione? More classes?

“People have been taking twelve OWLS for decades without the need of a turner!” He snapped in full passionate rant mode that took her breath away. Harry had locked eyes with her and Hermione looked deep into the startling green orbs to see a clash of emotions. Anger at what she was doing and towards the teachers for allowing it, but also care and worry over her health. The latter burned so brightly that she found it difficult to swallow and she fought to keep from tearing up at how much her friend obviously felt about her. “You alternate classes for those you can't miss and miss what you can. Muggle Studies can be done out of a bloody book for crying out loud!”

In an instant Harry had stepped forward to press his palms against her cheeks. Hermione was a deer caught in the intense love that blazed in her best friend's face.

“You don't need to half kill yourself in order to take everything. Don't let their idiocy and disregard for your safety trick you into being hurt, Hermione. _Please._ ”

The entire rant had taken less than five minutes, but it would completely change Hermione's year. She knew she was stubborn enough to push through any issues that might have come up from abusing the time-turner, but she also admitted that she would never have taken the time-turner if _all_ the side effects had been explained. And she had no doubt that what Harry had said was true. There was no way he would lie about it just to get her to stop.

“I'll give it back at the end of the day,” she whispered, still unable to look away from those powerful eyes. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and she was feeling emotions she hadn't expected to feel in regard to the boy in front of her.

The boy in question gave a huge exhale of relief, the tension draining away at her promise. To Hermione's surprise he leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on her forehead before pulling her into a crushing hug. She would forever deny that she 'eeped' in surprise at him being the one that initiated the cuddle. A traitorous thought had her wondering what else could she get herself into if it meant she got to be held like this by him again.

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OoOoO

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“Bassstard,” Salazar spat as he glared at what had been done to his sister’s creation. His magic flared in sparks around his eyes and he was snarling in barely contained fury. “Hasss he no ressspect?”

Sal and Rowena were in the Room of Requirement and the mountains of discarded objects rattled as Harry's magic flared. Luna only had eyes for Harry, unable to bring herself to look at her beloved diadem until he had purged the evil from it.

“When I find out who taught Riddle about these monstrosities, I'm going to skin them alive and feed them to Inferi.”

She had no doubt that her brother would do exactly that.

Harry stepped back from the tainted jewel and lifted his hand in the air. His staff immediately appeared in his grasp and Harry pressed the bone tip against the diadem. The Dark protections Riddle had wrapped around the diadem shuddered at the raw power pressing down on them. An Ancient Sumerian spell roughly translated into 'Reveal your soul-brothers' smashed through them to connect directly with Riddle's soul shard. The object glowed a sickly purple and then ghostly images slowly floated off the diadem to reveal what else had been tainted by Voldemort.

Luna hissed when she saw her sister's beloved cup appear in the twisted mist and Harry's body shook with rage. Somewhere in the giant room something exploded as his magic lashed out. When the image turned to Salazar's personal locket and then to an all too familiar ring, Harry lost all control. He released a roar of pure fury, lashing his off hand to fire off the most powerful blasting hex anyone in modern day would have seen. The magic ripped apart a broken cabinet and continued on to destroy anything else it came into contact with. Salazar wasn't done. His magic blazed like emerald phoenix flames and he pointed his staff at the offending diadem. Harry put all his anger into casting the very last spell he had created.

“ _AVADA KEDAVRA!”_ The Killing spell was a foot wide and completely engulfed the diadem. There was a brief wailing as the soul shard was ripped out of the head piece, restoring the diadem to its original glory.

“Helga's cup, my locket,” he snarled, turning to face a shocked Luna. “My family's ring. I am going to destroy him, Ro. I'm going to tear his magic apart and make him and all his followers scream for gentle caresses of hell before I allow them to die.”

Luna stepped forward to cup Harry's cheek and completely ignored the fact that everything outside of ten feet around them was now swirling in the air from the rage her brother was feeling. It was her gentle touch and love in her eyes that eased Salazar out of his blind fury.

“And we shall be with you every step of the way, Sal. All three of us.”

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OoOoO

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_Elsewhere_

McGonagall was surprised to find a nervous Hermione Granger entering her office. The girl was chewing at her lower lip and wringing her hands together, a state Minerva only saw at the end of the year when she was worried about exams.

“Come in, Miss Granger. Whatever is wrong?”

“Professor...” Hermione paused and took a steadying breath before continuing. “Professor, did you know that the artefact was dangerous if I didn't add an extra ninety minutes to every hour I used it?”

McGonagall reared back as though she had been slapped. She had known that the young teenager needed to avoid being seen by her past self but that was all.

“Miss Granger?”

“Apparently I need to eat more, sleep more and rest more if I'm using it the way I have been,” Hermione explained, her eyes brimming with tears at the thought of her favourite teacher deliberately putting her in harm's way. “If I don't it could cause me to have a nervous breakdown or even damage my magic.”

“I swear to you Miss Granger, Hermione, I had no idea,” McGonagall was flabbergasted at what she was hearing even though it made sense now she was thinking about it. “If I had I would never have let you use it the way we had planned. How did you find out?”

“Harry,” Hermione gave a watery smile at McGonagall's snort at the answer. “He somehow worked out I was using it and ranted at me for putting myself at risk. He said, he said that students have an adjusted timetable if they want to take all the subjects.”

“Well yes, yes they do. The Headmaster works out the timetables and you are the only student who are taking all the subjects. It was he who suggested the artefact rather than you do that.”

The two stared at each other and both refused to speak about the potential neither wanted to confront. They simply couldn't face the idea of Headmaster Dumbledore deliberately putting Hermione at risk.

“I'll tell you what,” McGonagall gave her a reassuring smile as she pulled out a parchment and quill. “Why don't we work on a proper schedule for you and you keep the artefact for any emergencies?”

“I'd like that, Professor. Thank you.”

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OoOoO

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_7 th September 1993_

Septima Vector was a tall brunette with a teaching method that rivalled Professor Flitwick's. That she was essentially teaching high level mathematics meant that it was the ideal way of learning Arithmancy.

“Now, this class is split up into two areas,” she announced with a wide grin. “The first is in studying the magical properties of numbers and how they influence both rituals and spells. The second area is learning how to break down a spell into its formulae and understanding how each piece relates to the entire whole. It's combining these two areas that allow you to make brand new spells. Yes, Mister Potter?”

Harry's hand had immediately lifted after he had heard the first part.

“Professor, it's common knowledge that magic is really about intent. Words and wand action are means to aid in the focusing of our magic to create the intended result.”

“Well it's not _quite_ as commonly understood as you're making out, Mister Potter, but yes. You learn to put aside the spoken word in your NEWTs.”

Harry didn't notice Hermione's shocked look at his words and where he was going with the question. A look that was shared by the majority of the class. This was not the Harry Potter they were familiar with.

“Well, my question is this; do numbers truly have magical properties or did the early ritual makers put so much _intent_ into the rituals that they influenced magic into _making_ those numbers as special as they now are?”

Professor Vector stared at him for a moment while inside she was dancing with euphoria at having a third-year student asking such a question.

“Mister Potter, I can tell you in all honesty that a discussion about that very topic - discussion mind you, not proof either way – has been used in quite a few Mastery theses.”

Harry just shrugged with his lopsided grin and leaned back in his chair. It had been a very heated debated between himself and Helga where he believed it was possible to imprint an intent so strongly on the world's magic that another could then use it. In the case of the numbers, each time a ritual worked best, or worked only, with a specific numerical part it would reinforce the magical intent of the numbers. She had always argued that the numbers held initial power and that the belief only aided it.

He was extremely happy that no one had yet found the answer.

The class went smoothly when no one else had questions, and Vector gave Harry a list of books that dealt more in the theoretical aspects of Arithmancy. He thanked her and dashed out of the room, only just managing to catch Daphne Greengrass before the Slytherins split for their next class.

“Miss Greengrass, as the last Potter I humbly request you ask Lord Greengrass if he would be amenable to a meeting as soon as possible. I have no problems with the location so long as it is prior to this month's Wizengamot session.”

The Slytherins looked between each other with curious glances, each clearly wondering where this political Harry Potter had come from. Hermione stood a little off to the side and was clearly confused by what her friend was doing.

“And why can't you ask him yourself, Potter?” Daphne replied in her most controlled voice. It was a fair question that Harry's small nod agreed to. Unasked was how he would be getting to any such meeting.

“Because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived who got dumped on the doorstep of magic hating muggles, knew nothing about magic or my world until the Hogwarts letter arrived, and have yet to receive any type of Wizarding mail since my reintroduction to our world. This most definitely includes but is not limited to receiving _none_ of the letters sent to me by Gringotts. So, tell me, Heiress Greengrass, why should I entrust that any letter sent with such a request would actually get to him?”

Harry's head had tilted to the side by the end of his little rant and he had lifted an eyebrow in time with the question. Only he knew that Hedwig could easily deliver the request and bring back the reply without worry.

Those within hearing range gaped at the boy in front of them and Sal held back the smirk over the damage his deliberate information dump would ultimately cause. That he could clearly see Susan Bones off to the side who looked ready to run off to the owlery was a bonus to his future plans.

“In...in that case...I shall pass on the message,” Daphne managed to get out, clearly too shocked to keep up her mask. Harry gave her a winning smile, caught her hand to bring it the knuckles to his lips, and thanked her before sweeping off down the corridor with a very confused and worried Hermione beside him.

.

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OoOoO

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The rest of day was quiet with Professor Lupin continuing to prove he knew his stuff. It was with Hagrid that things got interesting.

Most of the Care of Magical Creatures class had been able to control their books. Harry suspected the manager at Flourish and Blott's had passed on the news after Harry's demonstration and word had spread to those who had bought an early copy. In fact, it seemed only Draco, Pansy and the bodyguards had been forced to subdue their books another way. Harry didn't fight the smirk at the blond's embarrassment.

His eyes lit up with joy when he saw the animal they were studying. His logical side cried out that hippogriffs weren't the safest animals for third years, but his good memories of the Founders' herd overrode the voice. Harry was the first to step forward when Hagrid asked for volunteers.

“Brilliant, 'arry!” His half-giant freed beamed. “Now ye' mus' remember, they're proud beasts they 're. Don't insult one 'cause it might just be the last thing yer do. Now, 'arry, walk towards 'im and bow, then ye' wait to see how 'e reacts. If 'e bows back yer can get in close to stroke 'im but if not, back away quick.”

Hagrid brought one of the gorgeous animals forward and Harry bowed without breaking eye contact. He waited, frozen so not to annoy the proud animal, and to the surprise of the class Buckbeak returned the move. Hagrid's smile was catching, and Harry ran his fingers through the hippogriff's feathers.

“Feel like taking me for a ride, Buckbeak?” He whispered, and the hippogriff nodded eagerly. Harry flashed Hermione a cheeky grin and easily climbed onto the animal's broad shoulders. The hippogriff immediately took a run and jump, soaring high as Harry whooped with delight.

He was thrown back into a life long ago lived when Godric had convinced Salazar to try riding a hippogriff for the first time. The experience had stayed with him and it had been made even more special as they flew side-by-side, sharing laughter and jokes as their hippogriffs dived through the air. Harry was so caught up with the memory he didn't notice when Buckbeak took them back to the class and he had to dismount.

The class applauded, and Hermione's eyes were shining from how much pleasure he had taken from the ride. For a brief moment they simply stared at each other, the world falling away, and then Malfoy stepped forward with all his arrogant self.

Harry released his holly wand even before the self-important brat opened his mouth and so was able to cast an overpowered Depulso that banished Malfoy into the enclosure's fence. There was a loud crash and howl of pain as Malfoy's arm snapped on impact. Pansy screeched in uproar about how her poor Draco was hurt, the boy in question screaming in pain and Crabbe and Goyle looking torn between attempting to attack Harry and helping their leader. Harry merely grinned at the prat's pain.

To Harry's surprise the Gryffindors waited to see what the Slytherins would do rather than immediately going on the offensive. _Huh, guess they can learn._ He mused.

“Get 'im to Poppy!” Hagrid demanded of the miniature trolls.

It was effectively the end of the lesson and Harry happily made his way up to the castle, whistling merrily while Hermione worried with every step.

“Harry, I really don't think you should be quite so happy.”

“Why ever not?” He in mock aghast at her suggestion. “Hermione, Malfoy completely disregarded a teacher's instructions and put his life at risk. I, a mere concerned fellow student, simply got him out of the way before he received a grievous injury.”

Snickering came from behind them and Harry was almost positive it was from someone in green. His sleeping Helga could only gape at him as they made their way to dinner, knowing that he really had saved Malfoy, yet it was for far less altruistic reasons than he was pretending. Suddenly she stopped as she realised just _how_ Harry had saved the ponce.

“Harry, that was a fourth year Banishing Charm!” She shouted, causing everyone to turn their eyes his way. “And you did it silently!”

“Practice when I was staying at Diagon,” Harry shrugged as he continued to walk, not caring about showing too much of his talents. The curriculum was so much less than what Salazar was used to that he couldn't bring himself to care.

“POTTER!” A familiar roar echoed throughout the Great Hall and Harry smirked, his eyes gleaming with potential trouble. Luna looked at him from her spot at the Gryffindor table and sighed at the expression. She might have sworn at him too, but no one heard. “50 points and detention for a week with me, Potter! I'll teach you to harm a fellow student.”

Harry moved further into the Hall and took a careful look around. There were more than enough students and the key members of staff were also there, including a rather red-eyed and sniffling Hagrid.

“I'm afraid I must decline your invitation, Mr. Snape,” Harry answered in a cheery manner. There was a collective gasp at someone turning down one of Snape's punishments and the man in question stood from his chair to glare dangerously at Harry.

Harry looked over at Neville and nodded towards Luna. His brother nodded back and carefully drew a panicking Hermione out of the firing line and over to the Ravenclaw.

“Now, Harry, you did attack a fellow student,” Dumbledore's overly used grandfather voice brought Salazar's attention back to the front. Salazar risked looking into the twinkling eyes and could see embers of anger and confusion. It was almost enough to make Harry laugh. “And you will have those detentions with _Professor_ Snape.”

“Professor Sprout, my favourite and most beautiful Herbology teacher,” the raven-haired teen said, sending a roguish grin at the Hufflepuff Head.

“She's your only Herbology teacher, Harrikins!” The twins called out in stereo and smatterings of laughter echoed around Harry. The woman in question did give off a small blush.

“Regardless,” he shrugged, enjoying the moment even as Snape grew angrier at being ignored. He could feel Hogwarts' humour at his showmanship. “Last year you gave a wonderful lesson on dealing with baby Mandrakes. What would you do if a student deliberately ignored your warnings and attempted to deal with the plants sans ear protection?”

“You mean after they've recovered?” She asked back, habit having her answer a teaching question even in the strange situation. “Points taken off if it was an accidental thing. If it was deliberate then a week's worth of detentions, points taken off, and an essay about the dangers of adult Mandrakes. Those plants are not to be trifled with.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry bowed to her and then turned to the newest member of staff. “Professor Lupin, you're teaching one of the older years a very dangerous spell. You're allowing them to practice it on a target under very precise instructions and have warned them in messing around. What would you do with a rogue student who _immediately_ turned around a fired that spell across the room at fellow students.”

Remus gave a little grin, knowing that Harry was making an even bigger point than his Gryfferin speech that had Malfoy running away from their Express compartment.

“A month’s detention for deliberately harming their fellow students. You don't play games with dangerous spells.”

“Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore interrupted before he could turn to another teaching and ask a similar question. “While this is very educational, it has nothing to do with your attack on Mister Malfoy.”

Except those who had been in the COMC class knew otherwise. Hagrid was currently looking at Harry like his personal saviour as even he worked out what was happening.

“And _you_ , Mister Snape,” Harry glared back at the greasy bastard. _Seriously? I didn't look that bad after spending a full month hidden in my potions lab._ “Let's say that, rather than simply spouting 'Instructions are on the board, you have one hour,'” giggles rose up at the overdone impersonation. “You actually _taught_ a Potions class and explained what happened if you add porcupine quills to a mixture still on the heat. What would you do to the dunderhead who does it anyway? Don't answer that.”

Snape's jaw snapped shut as Harry fired the last part, the green-eyed wizard turned his glare towards Dumbledore.

“The problem here, Professor Dumbledore, is that rather than follow in the Professors examples, his reaction would be based solely upon the House the student in question was from. Any House other than Slytherin gets the book thrown at them but those in green? Well Mister Snape would do his best to put the blame on someone else.”

“Well, Mister Snape,” Harry growled at the man who was now shaking with fury. His face had moved beyond red with anger and was well into purple. “Your dunderhead Malfoy ignored a clear warning from _Professor_ Hagrid on how not to act towards the proud animal that is a hippogriff. Your dunderhead Malfoy strode up and went to _immediately_ insult the animal in question. My banishing charm got him out of the damn way.

“So now, in front of the entire school and after hearing what two real Professors would do, what do you recommend happens to your dunderhead Malfoy, _Mister_ Snape?”

“Mister Potter, I have told you before. It is Professor Snape and we shall take this to my office,” the twinkle had gone from the pale eyes and now the school got a look at an angry Dumbledore. Harry merely smiled back at the anger and it was that of a predator finding its prey. Even Lupin shifted at the feral look.

“Then, by the schools own Charter, I request Professor Flitwick to represent my interests as a neutral third party as you will no doubt have _Mister_ Snape there the same as you did the last time you wanted me to visit you. Shall we go?”

Harry waved his hand towards the direction of Dumbledore's office and waited. There was a pregnant pause and to the shock of everyone, it was the elder wizard who blinked first.

“Mister Potter,” McGonagall spoke up as a way of taking back control of the situation. She also needed to find out just why Harry continued to use the same form of disrespect each time he had to deal with the Slytherin Head of House. “You have constantly used our titles all except the deliberate exemption of Professor Snape.”

“And there's a very valid reason, ma'am,” Salazar answered in a much calmer voice. He would have smiled if he looked over to his sister as she already nodding at what he was about to say. “The title and role of Professor in this school should be treated with the respect and honour they deserve. Not only by the students but by the people in those positions. It is the Professors who are here to educate us in the varied and powerful aspects of magic you each are specialists in.”

Green eyes turned to face black as Snape's anger now began to merge with a blush of embarrassment at what he saw coming.

“Instructions on the board is not educating. Not making sure students know how to follow those instructions is not educating. Berating and badgering students until they can't help but make potentially lethal mistakes just so you can punish them for it is _not_ educating. Taking points off for breathing, for blinking too loud, while also giving points for looking attentive or simply wearing green is not educating,” Harry's pointed directly at the man in question and his voice lowed to a growl that was still heard throughout the Hall. “ _Mister_ Snape is not an educator. It's already proven that he was deliberately having us non Slytherins learn with faulty instructions therefore I refuse to sully your noble position by giving him the title of Professor.”

Harry didn't know who started it but all around him came an explosion of applause. Everyone bar the first years and the Slytherins, though some still agreed, were on their feet cheering and clapping Harry's cut down of the dungeon bat. He would later learn that even Hermione, the most authority respecting student aside from Percy Weasley, stood and cheered as her eyes were open to the differences between a title and actually doing the job.

Harry didn't know any of this. Instead his eyes were locked on his enemy's and pure hatred flowed between them. Snape was holding onto his temper by a mental fingernail, wanting desperately to curse the brat but knowing he couldn't risk it in front of everyone. Yet he couldn't walk away either, not if it meant blinking first against the dreaded spawn of James Potter.

It took a bang from Dumbledore's wand to eventually silence the students as Professor McGonagall was frozen solid by the reaction. It was the final straw for the Deputy Headmistress and she made the decision then and there to force Severus into being an actual Professor for once.

“Detention, Mister Potter, for your gross disrespect,” Dumbledore shouted once the applause had died down. This finally broke the deadlock between Harry and Snape.

“No,” Harry snarled. “At no point have I been disrespectful to anyone. I've explained my reasoning to everything said here and it's _you_ and Mister Snape who wanted to do it in public. So once again I call upon a neutral member of staff to judge whether Mister Snape's and your punishments are valid or done out of anger.”

“All punishments towards Mister Potter since he entered the Hall for dinner are reversed,” Professor McGonagall announced almost before Harry had finished speaking and Dumbledore spun in shock to glare at his second-in-command. In the change of conversation, Snape was stalking out of the room and Harry waited until the man had reached the door.

“Oh, and Mister Snape. When you talk to either of the Malfoys, find out if they look to have either Professor Hagrid, the hippogriff Buckbeak, or myself brought up on charges towards the potential threat of life to Scion Malfoy. Because if they are, they're admitting that House Malfoy now owes House Potter a life Debt,” Snape stiffened at the last two words as did two other members of the staff, but Harry only had eyes for the one. “And House Potter will call on _all_ its owed Debts eventually.”

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OoOoO

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_Much later_

“Get control of that brat, Albus, or by Merlin I'll curse him so bad he'll be begging me to send him off to meet Potter scum the elder.”

The Headmaster's office was a wreck and both men had their auras pulsing from rage. There was no twinkling to Dumbledore's eyes while Snape was practically foaming at the mouth with desire to kill the spawn of his hated foe.

“You will do no such thing, Severus,” Dumbledore snapped, throwing his glasses onto the burnt and smoking desk so that he could rub his tired eyes. “At least not before Tom returns and we can fulfil the prophecy.”

“And in the meantime? I won't stand back and be disrespected by that arrogant mucus with delusions of adequacy.”

The problem was that Dumbledore didn't have an answer to his Potions Master. The silence was enough to cause Snape to snarl and he barely managed to conjure a workable chair due to his rampaging fury. The normal one had been destroyed almost immediately after the two had entered the office. The dual temper tantrum had been watched over by the portraits and Sebastian, the latter who had laughed with each spell and swearword thrown.

“Minerva has already informed me that she'll be opening up an investigation into your teaching methods. This on top of the book scandal has gotten her riled up,” the elder wizard announced as he rubbed his forehead in agitation. “As Deputy Headmistress, the discipline of students and staff falls under her remit unless I wish to fire her. And you can be sure she wouldn't keep things quiet if I did.”

“So now I have to be _nice_ to the brats?”

“No, ya idjit,” Sebastian called out from the safety of his shelf. “You have to actually teach!”

“ _Sectumsempra!”_ The Dark cutting curse flashed against the shield Hogwarts herself created to protect the Sorting Hat and Snape's cry of outrage only caused Sebastian to laugh that much more. “I will find a way to burn you to ash if you don't shut your worthless slit!”

“I'd love to see ya try!” Sebastian goaded. What no one bar the Founders knew was that he was magically tied to Hogwarts itself and would be either repaired or recreated immediately if someone ever did work out how to get through his protections.

“ENOUGH!” Dumbledore roared, his magic flaring out to smother Snape who had to grit his teeth to ignore the ancient piece of felt.

“Obviously Harry knows about the life Debt you owed James,” and there the Leader of the Light glared at Sebastian. He had yet to pull from the infernal hat just how much it had told Harry in the Chamber and not even his role of Headmaster worked. “What we need to do is make sure he doesn't put the Malfoys in the same situation.”

“I've already spoken to Lucius,” Snape managed to snarl through clenched teeth. “He was not amused by either his son's actions or the threat _Potter_ put out in the Great Hall. I would not be surprised if Draco received remedial training on being a Slytherin. The brat is free, that animal is untouchable, and I was made a laughing stock in front of the entire school.”

“We will need to back off Harry for a while, Severus. It is all too apparent that he knows Hogwarts rules inside and out and sees us both as an enemy. I need this to blow over before I even think of calling him up here without him bringing Filius or Minerva.”

“And in the meantime, he gains control of the school and becomes even more like his father!”

"And what would have me do?”

“Veritaserum! Rip into his mind! Whatever it bloody takes to find out what he knows, how he knows it, and then wipe it from him. The Dark Lord can kill a simpering mindless tool just as he could a worthless Gryffindor.”

For a moment Dumbledore's pale eyes narrowed as he seriously thought of doing exactly as the irate Professor demanded. Only to shake his head as he remembered the reason behind everything he did.

“No, I can't risk us destroying something that might be the 'Power He Knows Not.' For now, do nothing but actually teach so that Minerva lets this be. Harry cannot go to Hogsmeade and with the Dursleys out of the picture, he is stuck here for Christmas. We'll readdress everything then.”

Neither man realised that a thirteen-year-old Salazar was sitting cross-legged on his bed with his eyes closed. Harry had immersed himself in the wards and Hogwarts eagerly allowed him to listen in on the entire meeting. While the ranting and destruction had been amusing, the conversation after was the all-important thing.

Harry opened his eyes, fully aware that they and his aura were glowing the Slytherin colour. Avada sparks of magic flashed across his body as the most dangerous Founder smirked darkly. His enemies would rule the day they thought they could control him.

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OoOoO


	7. The King of Snakes Takes Centre Stage

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

The King of Snakes Takes Centre Stage

 

_9 th September 1993_

Harry looked around the Gryffindor Common Room at the young expected faces staring back. In all his rage and machinations to take back his school and bring pain to those who had wronged him, Salazar had forgotten the most important thing. The students themselves. It had taken him spotting some lost firsties the previous day to give him his much missing focus.

“Blimey, you're an eager lot,” he joked at seeing them fully awake. He had cornered one of the little sprites that very evening to make sure they were all there bright and early. “Now, my name is Harry Potter and I'm a third year. This means that I was in your place two years ago and saw what happened with last year's firsties. To put it mildly, I wasn't impressed.”

That caught their attention and some nervous looks passed between the eleven-year-olds. Harry flicked his wand and a stack of parchment flew off the nearby table to their waiting hands.

“And so I've decided to take each and every one of you under my wing,” he informed them with a soft smile that received wide-eyed blinks of shock in response. “You have in your hands an interactive map of the school. It always knows where it is, and it will give you instructions on the quickest route to wherever you want to go.”

He was getting looks of awe and hero worship that allowed Salazar to feel the familiar warmth of being a teacher. It was something he had missed before he died.

“The maps will only show up the main areas of the school even though there are plenty of hidden corridors and rooms in Hogwarts,” he continued with a playful smirk. “All you have to do is find them with the map in your possession and it will update. You'll then know places to take a special someone once you're older and want to avoid the teachers.”

Titters and giggles sounded in the room. Harry found no need to inform them Hogwarts would still know if they were in trouble or did things they shouldn't.

“Come on now, try it. Put your wand on your map and say 'Main Hall.'”

The group did, and gasps went up as their maps changed. Words appeared on the top of the parchment to give written instructions on how to get to the Main Hall while the map, shrinking to provide space for the instructions, showed them the way to go.

“This will show you were the kitchens are and all you need to do is tickle the pear to get it. It will _not_ show you where the other Houses are,” Harry paused to look the excited group over so that they knew he was serious. “That knowledge is a privilege to earn. That isn't to say students from other Houses aren't allowed to enter a Common Room, merely that it is like your home. A neighbour may know where you live but that doesn't give them the right to simply walk in without an invitation.”

The slightly stern look made them all nod their heads in agreement. Translation; you won't know where the others live until you're invited to learn. Or sneak it out.

“I will set aside a two-hour window here every week evening between seven and nine where you can come to me for help in your studies,” he continued and immediately saw relief in some faces. “This doesn't mean you cannot come to me at any other time nor does it mean you can't come to me about things that aren't class work related. It just means that I might not be able to help you in that precise moment. Do you all understand what I'm telling you?”

A chorus of 'yes sirs!' followed and Harry smiled, clapping his hands loudly in order to make them jump as well as bring about a more light-hearted tone.

“Brilliant! Now, it's off to breakfast we go and I can point out some interesting things along the way.”

The cheer from the group would echo all the way up to the Seven-year dorms.

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OoOoO

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The Great Hall saw a peculiar sight when Harry Potter led his gaggle of First Years to their breakfast. Each young face was alive with eagerness and joy the likes of which hadn't been seen since the evening of their Sorting. Each Gryffindor sat together, happily talking amongst themselves while Harry moved from one student to the other, leaning down to whisper a word here or there to make a personal connection that many of the Professors had forgotten was key in being a teacher.

A watching Rowena Lovegood couldn't help but feel the pride and love swell as she watched her brother do what he was born to do. She had been horrified when he Awoke her, and she realised that the fifth Hogwarts House had been shut down. Hogwarts House had once contained all the students, split only by gender and talent, and it had been a privilege to be put into one of the Founders Houses after a student's first year and was never a guarantee. Some students never got taken out of the Hogwarts House. The students who were chosen would simply get more time with their head Founder but there was never a rivalry. Salazar had happily taught those in his House exactly as he had the young Gryffindors.

As though sensing her gaze – which he probably did – Harry raised his head to send a smile across the Hall to Luna. It was one that gave the girl flashbacks of so many memories of an older, happier Sal doing the same during many moments in their lives. She returned the look and then blinked when he frowned as his Avada eyes scanned the tables of the other three tables. Rowena followed his gaze and immediately noticed what he had spotted.

None of the other First Years were being added by _anyone_ in their Houses. She immediately turned to catch her brother's gaze and nodded, a promise to do what she knew he would want.

The entire exchange, confusing to anyone not knowing their history, was watched by the pale eyes of Dumbledore. The Headmaster didn't fight the frown as he wondered what chaos the Potter boy was about to cause. The unease at seeing the boy connecting to an entire year group did nothing to settle his swirling thoughts.

It was sometime later that Harry stood in an unused classroom. Salazar took the quiet opportunity to reach out to his beloved school and assess the state of the wards. He had held back from completely cutting off Dumbledore's power drain, instead he had subtly shifted the leech away from the important wards to those that he wanted rid of. The bizarre number of redundant wards – seriously, what property needed _sixteen_ anti-Apparition wards? - allowed him to keep the Old Man from knowing anything was amiss. The leech was now draining the wards Harry wanted gone rather than taking the power directly from Cassie's Heartstone, allowing her to slowly power back up the wards that had been ignored without Dumbledore noticing.

It was a delicate balancing act for Salazar in that he needed to bring his home back to its original magical glory without moving so fast that Cassie was unable to hide the changes from the man who thought he was still in charge. He knew that even if everything went perfect, it would still only take the last of the unwanted wards to be drained away before Dumbledore noticed the lack of power.

His deep meditation was interrupted when the door opened and Luna led the Ravenclaw firsties into the room. It wasn't long before Cedric Diggory in all his Hufflepuff glory led in the young Badgers, soon followed by a similar group in green. It had taken a combination of both Harry and Luna to convince one Daphne Greengrass to do the same with the youngest Slytherins.

“Well, Potter?” Diggory demanded, obviously not trusting the outspoken Gryffindor with his Badgerittes. “You'd better have a good reason for this.”

“I do, Mister Diggory, Miss Greengrass,” Harry answered, making sure to include the silent but glaring Ice Queen in his response. Rather than talking to the older students, Harry turned his attention to the younger ones. “I'm sure you're all aware of my name and have some type of idea who I am either because of my actions this year or words from your House mates. I'm not here to argue against the _many_ erroneous beliefs about myself but rather speak about what Hogwarts could mean to all of you.”

Harry went into a far deeper talk than what he used for the Gryffindors. In fact, it was somewhat similar to what Salazar had used in his own time to the new students and described not only the goal of a place like Hogwarts but that the students would be doing themselves a disservice if they didn't try their hardest.

“Now, I fully expect you all to have fun was well as do your best,” he continued, pleased he had caught their full attention. By the looks on both Diggory and Greengrass, they too were caught up in his speech. “As I told the Gryffindor first years, I will be available for all of you to come to for school work, trouble with your professors, home life, or simply to talk to. I will be in the library between five and seven almost every weekend to help you with your homework. If you need me outside of those times, then you're free to come up to me and ask. However, be warned that I have my own things to focus on, so I may not be able to help you immediately.”

There was a round of nods telling him that they understood what he was saying.

“On the table behind you is a map of the castle that will allow you to find anything you need. Simply put your wand against the parchment and state your destination. It automatically updates the route if a room as changed locations or the staircases are feeling frisky.”

This time he paused, knowing what he was about to say might not go over well with what their young ears had heard from their house mates.

“While I have nothing against House pride, I have issues with it if it interferes with friendship or keeps you from getting help for a problem,” he told the group and the glare he gave proved his seriousness. “Thusly, I don't give a rat’s arse what House you're in. If you need help, then I will help you. If you cause problems with those I am helping, you will get problems from me. Are we all understood?”

There was no doubting the threat was also to Greengrass and Diggory and they were among the nodding heads to his question. The Avada glare aimed over the heads of the younger students made the older students feel as though they were being judged and found wanting.

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OoOoO

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_11 th September 1993_

The previous morning saw a sight that shocked many in the Great Hall. There was an obvious togetherness between the first and second years of every House with some, even those dressed in green, making their way over to speak with Harry about this problem or that. Sal did his best to help where he could, offer guidance to answers where he couldn't, or set up a time with those who needed more than a few minutes. He never seemed to worry about the constant interrupts and accepted each one with a soft smile and gentle word.

Pomona Sprout looked on with pride at the sheer Hufflepuffness of the famous Gryffindor while Dumbledore could only worry as he saw the Potter boy building a network larger than even Tom Riddle had during his Hogwarts years.

Two other standout moments came later in the day. Professor Lupin had apparently found a Boggart that had wandered into the castle that very week, something that set Sal's hackles rising since the wards were supposed to prevent that from even being possible. Sal’s mood didn’t improve as the lesson continued and the werewolf forced everyone in the double-lesson to repeatedly face their fears in from of their peers. While Lupin attempted to make a joke of the experience, Sal was quietly disgusted with the man at forcing teenagers to reveal such a personal part of themselves to others. That the man kept Sal from facing off against the Boggart was an annoyance in comparison.

The second moment came when Seamus Finnigan excitedly announced during their blank Potions period that Sirius Black had been spotted by a Vernaculi in the general area of Hogwarts. This merely increased Sal's curiosity about the man who had made him his heir.

Since the day was a Saturday he decided it was about time he visited Spike. There was no point in inviting the sea dragon back to Hogwarts if he only went to ignore the creature. The Black Lake rippled wildly as Harry approached and a royal blue head lifted out of the water. Sal immediately broke into a wide smile that the sea dragon somehow returned as it lowered its long neck. Harry's hand was already raising and the two met like old friends.

Spike was actually an Imogi, a sea wyvern, that had powerful back legs and tail enabling him to propel himself at breath-taking speeds through water while his front limbs were connected to a unique set of wings. The wings were more fins that those like his land-based cousins but where able to deflate enough to enable short aerial flights. The concept of a sea dragon as it related to his species was a misnomer with only an Imogi's eggs and young needing to be in water. An adult Imogi was more than capable of surviving on land for long periods of time.

The older, more powerful members of the species were also gifted in being able to shift into a humanoid form but that was something very were permitted to learn.

_~~“Something bothers you,”~~_ Spike stated, knowing his long-time friend enough to tell just by the way Salazar stroked his scales.

_~~“A lot, my friend. A lot. I had to kill Slinky,”~~_ Harry sighed before going into details over his life and being forced to kill his basilisk. The Imogi listened intently, large amber eyes intense in their gaze as the information was shared.

_~~“There is a not-grim here,”~~_ Spike announced once Harry finished with what he had put together over the summer and what had been happening in the school. _~~“It smells of anger-pain and protection.”~~_

Harry blinked in surprise. The 'not-grim' was Spike's way of saying something was able to turn into the form of a Death's Hound but it wasn't the being's natural form. _And just what would be the odds of an Animagus smelling like that who_ wasn't _Sirius Black?_ He asked himself, only to then wonder if it wasn't time to interrogate the rat Animagus in his Chamber. Sal's instincts were screaming that the two were somehow related. The thought was derailed when a shrill voice cut through the air.

“Harry James Potter, just what do you think you're doing?!”

He turned to see not only a fist on hips, foot tapping and highly annoyed looking Hermione but also half the Hogwarts staff and a large group of students all staring at him. Movement off to the side caught his attention and his Avada eyes slide over to where Luna was badly shaking, her mouth stuffed with knuckles to keep from manically laughing.

“Ah...bugger...” he grumbled, doing his best to ignoring Spike's hissing chuckles.

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OoOoO

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_18 h September 1993_

In the end, Harry had been forced to suffer through two separate staff meetings, three Hermione rantings, and a promise to Hagrid that Spike was a perfectly safe addition to the Black Lake and wouldn't hurt the poor kraken in the slightest. He was then forced to come up a reason behind his friendship with the sea wyvern as well as an explanation why no one knew the “giant squid” was a baby kraken.

The last one was all Rowena's fault as she had created a blood glamour to protect the poor creature. Not that Sal could actually tell anyone that.

The Saturday before the September Wizengamot saw Harry get up earlier than his dorm members. A strong shower to wake him up and then he was reaching for his magic. It sparked eagerly at his mental touch and Sal instinctively flicked out a wrist to send a spark of his power to the desire location.

“ _Fláráðr_ ,” he commanded in Old Norse. The spell was based on the illusionary tricks used by their god Loki and could only be used by someone with an incredibly strong sense of sense.

The spark leapt from Harry's fingers to hit a point just in front of him. An instant later and there was now a second, equally naked, Harry Potter standing in front of him.

The powerful spell was only possible by maintaining a constant ten percent drain on the caster's magic to form the solid copy. The spell, unlike normal illusions, created perfect mental duplicates along with the physical imitation. A powerful practitioner who also knew the Mind Arts could live out a day in two places at once with their mind and magic shared between the original body and the copy. A truly powerful caster could also make their magic switch the two versions around even with a distance between them, but the effort was both painful and potentially deadly.

It would surprise no one that Salazar could use the spell to its fullest even with it being as exhausting as it was. It had certainly saved his life many, many times.

“We know what we have to do,” Sal said to copy-Harry who nodded as they mentally adjusted the flow of magic between them. Copy-Harry would have enough power to perform in class and not draw attention to his skill level while the real version left Hogwarts. It was their dry run before the Wizengamot session.

“We do,” Copy-Harry answered in the same commanding tone. Neither were bothered at their lack of clothing. “I'll make sure the fools are fooled and our sister is protected. You make sure we set the stage for claiming our place in the world and lay the foundation for the others.”

Sal merely smirked and the two walked out of the showers without a word. Neither worried about waking the other boys as Sal had cast a room-wide sleep spell before his shower.

Dobby was standing beside Harry's bed dressed in all black, the top of the turtleneck jumper was rolled over so many times that it was only magic that allowed the elf to be able to move his head properly. There was a titled beret resting on his head and his right hand held an elegant black pipe that was quietly popping out bubbles. The two Harrys gave him identity nods that the elf returned and held out a potion vial for his master to drink as Copy-Harry began getting ready for his day in Hogwarts.

The reborn Founder focused on a mental image and downed the vial while pushing his magic into creating his new form. The magic of the original Polyjuice merged with the glamour's spell to shape his body into that of his 'older cousin' he had pretended to be in Twilfitt and Tatting's.

“The new version tastes disgusting,” Sal moaned as he got dressed in the expensive clothes, enjoying the feel of his old body as he remembered the previous year's exploits with Hermione and Ron.

“But you can't say she isn't a talented brewer,” Copy-Harry added as he put on a dress shirt. Just because it was a weekend did not mean he wasn't going to look smart. “She would have been perfect for our House.”

“Very true,” Sal nodded, the world tilting slightly as Dobby's magic instantly put the snakeskin boots on his feet. “I'll keep the connection open in case you need me, otherwise take care of our sister.”

Copy-Harry never had a chance to reply before Salazar's hand was taken by Dobby and elf popped to the seventh floor. Sal placed his palm against the blank wall and brought up the mental image he needed.

“I won't require you today, Dobby,” he told his faithful servant as the wall rippled before becoming a plan door. “My meeting with Lord Greengrass will be simple but the rest of the day will be of vastly more delicate business. Please keep an eye on my family while I'm gone.”

“Dobby dos, Master Harazar.”

Harry blinked at the new name and looked down at the mischievous elf who only gave a far too innocent wide-eyed look back. He snorted at the little sod but gave a small nod to show his acceptance. Dobby tilted the still bubbling pipe up in a salute and vanished.

“He tries calling me Sarry and I'm taking away his toys,” the Founder snorted, pushing open the blank door to reveal what was essentially a large broom closet. The only thing within the room was the ready fireplace and pot of Floo powder waiting. He wondered as he was calling out the Three Broomsticks how long it would take his sister to pick up on what he had done.

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OoOoO

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Cyrus Greengrass was a large, powerfully built man with shoulder-length dark hair that was held in place by a mithril clasp baring the Greengrass coat of arms. He had received a rather interesting letter from his eldest daughter requesting a meeting between himself and the Potter Scion. Such meetings weren't unusual in themselves, even if no one was aware of the Boy-Who-Lived requesting any before this. It was rather the information provided that caused Cyrus' eyebrows to be raised.

Someone was controlling who could and couldn't access the boy in question and it _wasn't_ being done in a legal way.

The Ancient House of Greengrass had been a part of the Potter-Black Alliance going back centuries, albeit leaning towards the Black side of things rather than the Potter, but that had all fallen apart upon the deaths of Arcturus Black and Charlus Potter. The power vacuum created by their deaths and those of Augustine Lestrange and Abraxas Malfoy, known collectively as the Four Kings and all suspicion about the quartet’s deaths led directly to the Dark Lord, allowed Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore to step in and cleave the Wizengamot up among themselves. Cyrus had been forced to step up and save as many of the Grey and Neutral families as he could, pulling them beneath _his_ banner but there were many nights when he wondered if it was worth it.

There had been no respite when the dark Halloween had shaken their world. Malfoy had taken up the Dark mantle in the place of his Lord and attempted to rule Magical Britain as though it was his own kingdom. Dumbledore had done likewise with the Light, using his legacy as the defeater of Grindelwald and the only one He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named feared as a way of making himself untouchable. Cyrus knew that both were as bad the other with it only being whether their manipulations were obvious that truly separated the two men.

Cyrus had done his best to force some type of deadlock in the Wizengamot until the Potter Scion took up his mantle. Yet it was obvious that Dumbledore had the boy under his thumb and those of the Potter-Black Alliance became split over wanting to turn their backs on the Alliance and fully stand beside Cyrus as a new group or wait to see just what type of follower the Boy-Who-Lived was when he entered politics.

In the end, Lord Greengrass had kept most of this from his daughters to allow them plausible deniability if the Potter boy turned on his family. As Cyrus knocked on the door to a private room in the Three Broomsticks, he was wondering if it that protection was now going to be needed.

“Enter,” a far older voice that he was expecting commanded. Cyrus did, and his blue eyes scanned the room, seeing far more than others might. Yet the one thing he didn't see was Harry Potter. “I bid you welcome, Lord Greengrass, and thank you for meeting me on this day.”

The man who spoke was so expensively dressed it made Malfoy appear a pauper. There was a very strong snake presence in the clothing while the long black hair had been pulled into a high braid that hung below the neck. The side hair was loose and brushed the man's shoulders. It was the inch-perfect hair for a Lord of House albeit not seen in over a century.

“I admit you have me at a disadvantage, my Lord,” Cyrus carefully replied. He had spotted the ring on the man's finger but missed the design. He _didn't_ miss the dagger sitting on the man's hip. “I was told by my daughter that I was to meet Harry Potter.”

“Ah, well, there is _a_ Harry Potter in Hogwarts today,” the man smirked, and this time Cyrus looked him in the eyes. Lord Greengrass was shocked at the Avada light looking back as only one person was said to have those coloured eyes. “Whether it is _the_ Harry Potter might be questionable.”

The man brought his right hand across his chest to tap the ring finger against his heart in the old tradition between one Lord and another. It was a greeting that allowed each side to always know who it was they spoke to as the House ring was deliberately made visible. Cyrus' eyes widened when he saw a rampant thestral carved directly into the golden band.

“But regardless, you may call me Sal Slytherin,” and now Cyrus felt faint when the Potter ring changed to something not quite as familiar but still known to the Slytherin House alumni. “I am Lord of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin and Lord Regent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter.”

Lord Greengrass collapsed into the nearest chair with his mouth agape, all masks and control shattered at the man's introduction. It took seeing the man's smirk to snap the former Slytherin out of his shock.

“How?”

“Consider me a very close relative of Harry Potter,” Sal told him, knowing he was leaving it perfectly open for the Greengrass Lord to work things out. The Snake Lord moved away from the wall and took a seat opposite the man who had done his best in a bad situation. “House Potter is a Child House of Peverell as is Slytherin. Lily Evans was the Lady Apparent of House Slytherin regardless of what a Dark Lord and his followers wanted this country to believe. You see, when it comes to Slytherin hierarchy, the _eyes_ have it.”

Cyrus Greengrass was well aware of such things. His own Family Magic was expressed through eyes capable of cutting an opponent in half while seeing into their souls. He didn't know if the man in front of him was truly Harry Potter or some blood relative who was secretly working with the boy. In the end it didn't matter. His world had just been turned upside down.

“And the reason behind this meeting?”

“For one reason or another, Albus Dumbledore has decided it is his right to run roughshod over House Potter. He has decided that Harry Potter is to know nothing of his heritage and legacy, nor is anyone not approved allowed to be close to him. Harry was to be a Slytherin until certain voices whispered in his ear that the entire House was as Dark as they come.”

Greengrass' eyes narrowed and he barely kept from snarling at what he was being told. His unique eyes told him that he was being told the truth, even if it wasn't the entire truth.

“As such, Harry Potter is unable to make any political moves until such time as he is firmly out of Dumbledore's control. Something which he is working on with his attitude this year.”

“My daughters have both told me that he has been incredibly vocal lately,” Cyrus admitted with a nod. “I've also been told he has taken even the Slytherin youngsters under his wing.”

Sal nodded, completely unsurprised that Daphne had explained everything she had seen since the start of the month. He leaned back, one leg crossing over the other, and sighed.

“Regardless, Harry Potter will be unable to fully take up his mantle for a number of years,” he continued in a much softer tone than he had been using prior. “But I, Sal Slytherin, am perfectly capable and comfortable in taking the politics while he is within Hogwarts. I have been updating my knowledge on the Wizengamot and am fully prepared to step in and shake the place up for allowing Dumbledore and Malfoy to do what they did to the Alliance. The first question I have, Lord Greengrass, is whether you are going stand in my way or help?”

The Avada eyes hardened and the air thickened as the true threat of the man in front of Cyrus was revealed. Lord Greengrass had not had to face the Dark Lord during the war but had seen the previous Potter and Black Lords battle both politically and magically. What he felt in that small room would have put all the Four Kings to shame.

“I never intended to take the Alliance over,” Cyrus confessed quickly in the hope his instincts wouldn't have him reaching for his wand. He knew if he did he wouldn't be leaving the room alive. “But with no true Potter Proxy and Sirius Black illegally in Azkaban, no one else was stepping up to do what Arcturus or Charlus would have.”

“Illegally?”

“Sirius Black and James Potter were brothers and would never have betrayed the other,” Cyrus explained, his time in Hogwarts had shown this considering how much trouble the pair got themselves into. “So much so that Black became sworn godfather to Harry Potter.”

“Sworn?” Sal's eyes narrowed at the news and Cyrus was very much reminded of a snake about to strike. Harry hadn’t known _that_ part of his link to the Azkaban escapee. “Well, then I think it’s time I looked into the entire affair.”

The words promised pain to anyone involved in the cover-up.

“I have other duties today, Lord Greengrass, but I trust you will let the other Alliance members know to be ready on Tuesday? I can promise it will certainly be interesting.”

Cyrus had no doubt about it and wondered just how to explain any of this to the other Alliance members let alone his wife.

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OoOoO

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Salazar left Gringotts idly stroking the new, disillusioned, Head of House ring he now wore. It was a platinum ring with a triangularly cut sapphire and ruby laying side-by-side to look like a multi coloured diamond. _Memento Mori_ was repeatedly etched around the stones and was the true Peverell ring. It had been when he introduced himself to Lord Greengrass that he realised there was a third House he hadn't taken control of.

Salazar Slytherin had been born in the House of Death close enough to know the Lord Peverell but far enough away to not be caught up in the succession war that had begun once Lord Antioch and Lord Cadmus had been killed. It had taken the third of his uncles, Lord Ignotus I, along with the full power of his third Hallow, almost a decade to tame the members of House Peverell who wanted control. A large amount of Peverell blood had been shed but that was politics in the Darker families.

Salazar had been spared the war when his second maturity hit and his magic was found to have created a new House. It didn't stop him from immediately creating binding ties with his uncle Ignotus. Now, so many years in the future and many generations later, Sal wondered if Ignotus had Seen something about him taking up the Peverell Lordship considering the look he had gotten way back then.

While Salazar Slytherin had not been in the running for the position of Lord Peverell, Harry Potter as the many times grandson of Sal's uncle Ignotus certainly was, and the extra weight of the Peverell Family Magic weighed down on the Awakened Founder. His musings and thoughts took his steps through Diagon and into one of the other magical areas.

Spiritu Alley was a place of worship and searching for Beyond and Above. It didn't matter what type of worship the Ministry allowed or outlawed, it was all legal and available in Spiritu as long as you didn't mind your beliefs rubbing against another's. As like in Diagon, certain buildings dominated the street and dwarfed their neighbours. The two biggest buildings belonged to the worshipping of Lady Magic herself with the second focused on Merlin Ambrosius. Sal fought back the snarl at the latter considering the man's actions had resulted in Rowena's death.

Salazar stalked past the magical versions of a Gurdwara, a couple of Hofs, a Mithraeum, and several places dedicated to the Morrigan or other death deities. His Peverell blood and magic were especially drawn to those but there was another place that the Lord Slytherin was headed. At the very bottom of the Alley was a small street that wasn’t always there with an end that didn’t always open up. It was the opening to the Street of the Gods where divine and demonic status could be bought and sold for the price of a soul, any soul. It was next to that dark cobbled street where the only temple of Morgana Le Fey existed in the entire country.

Where Merlin's temple was even more imposing that Gringotts Bank, the Le Fey one was so plain you could mistake it for a shop right out of Knockturn. It was with great reverence that Sal pushed open the blank wooden door and entered the small place of worship.

Sal ignored everything around him as he walked directly to the lifelike statue of Morgana Le Fey, the woman he had known as Morgan Raven's Claw. His heart clenched at the familiar features, so much like her sister Rowena, and only his Occlumency kept him from crying at the loss of such a wonderful woman.

“I'm back, Morgan,” he whispered to the silence and felt the still air stir with her familiar scent. “Your plan worked, and it is just as bad as Ro Saw. I could do with help, Sister of my House.”

The feminine gasp had Sal spinning around, his personal wand dropping into his right hand as he cursed his lack of awareness.

“Impossible!” The woman in front of him whispered, her voice carrying a slight Italian flavour. She was dressed in similar robes as Morgana's statute, robes that he had seen daily in his old life, while the mistletoe diadem was a fair copy of Rowena's. Salazar realised he was looking at the High Priestess of the temple. “There is only one bloodline who calls the great Morgana Sister to their House.”

“Her sister was claimed by three others,” Sal corrected, his body slowly easing once he realised who had disturbed him. The wand immediately disappeared back into its holster. “But yes, only one of them also claimed her as blood.”

“You are not the one who claims to be his heir,” the High Priestess accused, and the fire in the woman's brown eyes promised she would attempt to make him hurt if he was.

“Because I am not,” Salazar said, standing straight only to give the woman a deep bow of respect. “I am Lord Salazar Antioch Slytherin, milady, and it is an honour to speak to someone who honours my second sister's memory.”

The High Priestess stared at him long enough for it to become uncomfortable and then she broke out into a wide smile, her eyes going misty with happy tears.

“You have returned to us!” she announced with awe, stepping forward with her arms raised so that she could run her fingers across his face. Salazar let her do so, honoured to receive the touch of the High Priestess. “The great Lady's tome promised as such, but I confess I had doubted with the last war.”

Sal frowned. While it had been Rowena's vision that pushed the Founders into creating the Awakening ritual, it had been Morgan herself who helped power it and their safety net hidden inside the Many Room within Hogwarts. Yet, if the Priestess was speaking truth, Rowena's sister had done far more than she had suggested she would before her death.

The woman saw his confusion and immediately invited him deeper into the temple. It was many hours later that Salazar would reappear on Diagon Alley with one pocket laden with shrunken books detailing the history of not only the Founders families but also that of the House Ambrosius. A House whose birth came from an insane Dark Lord known as Ekrizdis, a House who had sworn a blood feud upon two brother families, and a House whose cause had been taken up by another even though there were questions on just how removed the Dumbledore line was from the House who had murdered Morgan and Rowena.

Salazar's rage at the Headmaster of his school had been a fire born of repeated pain. Now it had become a raging inferno of Fiendfyre that hungered for one thing only. The total ruination and death of the Dumbledores before they killed any more of his family.

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OoOoO

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Sal spent the rest of the day in The Wand and Cloak, an upscale pub that sat on the corner of Festive and Supernature Alley, eating a fulfilling meal and drinking some much-needed alcohol. According to the High Priestess, Morgan had charged her followers to disappear into the population and monitor everything that happened between the Founders' and Merlin's bloodlines. The order had gone out practically as soon as Rowena had her horrifying vision of the current future and was all aimed and making sure _someone_ knew the truth. The truth being that any line connected to the Founders was being slowly and systematically killed off in some twisted desire to 'avenge' Ekrizdis' banishment from his own House for going Dark.

Sal scoffed at _anyone_ thinking the man who had created Dementors so that he could de-soul his own father was an innocent who needed avenging.

Luna had spotted that the Harry in Hogwarts had been a copy from the moment she laid eyes on him at breakfast and had spent as much time as possible learning what Sal was up to in the outside world. Copy-Harry had been forced to smother their location in silencing, privacy and notice-me-not charms when she heard what he had learned. Even with being the scholar that he was, Sal was taken aback by the creative and varied insults the young blonde had spouted. It had taken him a few minutes to even translate some of her swearing considering she sometimes switched between four different tongues in the same sentence.

Having a verbal conversation via his magically created double who was still in Hogwarts while he was sitting in a pub, drinking a rather enjoyable whiskey, and reading through some of the condensed reports the High Priestess had given him was not the weirdest day in Harry's life - he would forever maintain those days were during the onslaught of Hogwarts letters before Hagrid's visit – but it was certainly up there.

As all things do, the day bled into the night and the long-distance conversation came to an end as Salazar shrunk all the papers and hide them back in his pocket. He had one more stop before he returned to his home and this one could only happen as the sun fell. He paid for his meal and drinks with whole galleons, uncaring about any change, and stalked down Supernature Alley. Festive Alley was heating up as Magical Britain's night life burst into action, clubs and other nocturnal enjoyments opened their doors for the young and old alike. If you had the money, they had the time. Sal let the early noise fall behind him as he moved like an apex predator through the one area where all creatures, Dark and Light, were allowed to be.

The Ministry might restrict the rights of so-called Dark creatures, but they legally couldn't do anything within Supernature. The Blood Moon's Den was already bursting with life, its underground fight scene notorious for pitting anyone against anything they dared to face. It was believed that some bored Gringotts employees worked off any bloodlust caused by idiotic wizards within the Den's cages. But it wasn't the shifters who Salazar had his focus on, but their long-time enemy and some-time ally the Kindred.

Once again there was a building within an Alley that was far more decadent than the others. The building was large enough that it could easily be mistaken for a Most Ancient House's manor if it was placed anywhere else in the country. Salazar simply walked into the building as though he owned it, uncaring about the vampires who hovered around the entry hall until one dared stand in his way.

“Lost, aren't you boy?” the woman sneered, her robes perfectly tailored even though she carried them as though they were her elder sister's. “I would turn back now if you want to see the coming sun.”

If there was one thing both Harry and Salazar despised, it was being called _boy._ A twist of Sal's wrist had his basilisk bone staff in hand and he released the full weight of his aura. The vampire cried out as the Avada energy blasted out of his body as though a heatwave, her pale skin even smoked where his magic made contact.

“Out of my way, Blue Blood,” Salazar sneered back at the wide-eyed creature. The other vampires watched, eager to see one of their own brought down before they attempted to kill him. “I am here for the Master, not the Servant.”

Harry's magic, fuelled by the anger over what he had learned of Dumbledore's deeper manipulations, was beginning to get away from him and the entire building shuddered from his Dark aura. It was only a familiar voice that spared the vampire's undead life.

“I know that aura, I know those eyes. Yet it has been almost a thousand years since I first saw them.”

Sal looked away from the pitiful thing that had challenged him and saw two men standing side-by-side at the top of the opulent staircase. The one on the right looked to be in his early thirties and had an athletic build, a neatly cropped beard and long red hair tied in a similar manner to Salazar's. He was also in clothes that obviously cost as much as Salazar's did. The other was shorter with the build of a warrior although he too had the long hair and beard, this time with blond hair. His clothing was a tailored business suit that would match with the most powerful of businessmen.

“Lord Valerius, Baron Hredel,” Sal nodded, first to the redhead and then to the blond, and pulled his magic back under control. “I had hoped one of you still lived and am pleased to see you both moved through the centuries.”

Lord Valerius, a dying Wizard turned during the battle of Hastings, looked at his old friend with fond eyes and gracefully descended the stairs. The two men had known each other before one lost his mortal life. Baron Hredel simply stood watching, waiting for definitive proof as well as seeing if any of the Childe decided to be foolish.

“I was an apprentice to four excellent tutors,” Valerius said, moving closer to read the man who had entered their Haven.

“You were one of the ones who could have been for all of us,” Salazar replied with a fond smile. The man might have been a thousand-year-old vampire but he had once been a Hogwarts student. “Godric was delighted to take you as primary Master but that was only because Helga wasn't quick enough. Rowena would never have let you leave without learning all she could teach.”

“And you?” Baron Hredel asked, his deeper voice losing the suspicion it had originally held.

“I knew little Val would come to me when he was ready. Never had I know such a powerful one in the Mind Arts at his age, I can only imagine the profit he has brought your clan over the intervening years.”

“It is good to see you again, Master Sal,” the younger vampire announced, and Salazar smiled back, nodding his agreement at the words. Hredel merely scoffed and nodded, the simply act putting the Awakened Founder under his personal protection from all Kindred.

“You as well, Valerius. I request audience with you both if you have the time this eve.”

There was no question in anyone's mind that the two vampires would find the time for their former comrade in arms.

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The three old friends sat in Hredel's office and each had a glass of bloodwine in hand. Bloodwine had human blood added with a small vampiric taint to blend the two fluids together enough to consumable. The only reason Salazar was able to touch the potent drink was due to the basilisk venom in his system that would burn through the taint.

“I've not really looked but is the Council still around?”

“The Wizard's Council?” Valerius laughed at his friend. “It's called the Wizengamot now, Sal. I thought you would have learned at least _that_.”

“No, not those idiots, the Watcher's Council,” Sal playfully glared back. Both vampires growled at the name which answered the question.

“They aren't the same as you remember them,” Hredel answered once he had calmed down. “They're been known to sacrifice their own Slayers for the smallest victory and have broken some of our treaties.”

“Humans in power, believing their own legend,” Sal said with a shake of the head. “Fools, just like the Wizengamot.”

“You say that as though you aren't one,” Valerius said, blinking at the smirk his former teacher gave to his words.

“I know _exactly_ what I am and what type of blood runs in my veins,” Salazar answered, his eyes momentarily glowing with power before the flames faded away. “But I'm not here for that, I'm here to talk about what can be done for your people once me and mine are in control of the government.”

It was a talk that would last long in the night.

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OoOoO

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_21 st September 1993 – Ministry of Magic_

Lord Slytherin had taken his time approaching the Ministry yet still found himself almost ninety minutes early for the month's meeting. It only took five for him to spot a Ministry employee using one of the phone booths and some passive Legilimency to know exactly how to get inside. _How quaint,_ he thought as he entered the booth and typed 'magic' on the keypad.

“Sal Slytherin here to upset the apple cart,” he smirked into the phone receiver and chuckled when the magical machine released a badge reading _Lord Slytherin, Politician._

The booth lowered into the atrium and he walked into the building as though he owned it, only to stop still when he caught sight of the monstrosity that was the Ministry's fountain statue.

It was all gold with a noble – read arrogant – wizard pointing his wand in the air and a beautiful witch standing beside him. What turned Sal's stomach was the adoring look on the house-elf, goblin, and centaur's face as they looked up at the wizard.

“Bigoted arseholes,” he snarled with a shake of the head. The chuckle coming from one side caught him by surprise and he spun, barely keeping from casting a spell at the robed individual that had somehow slipped past his senses. The glare he sent the robed man's way had cowed many people in the past.

“I've been waiting for you, Mister Sal,” the voice from beneath the cowl was neither male nor female and the robes were deliberately cut to hide any tell-tale physical clues. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Croaker, Head Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries, at your service.”

The figured dipped its head while Sal's eyebrow raised in question. Croaker merely waited as he took in the man before him and did everything he could not to come across as a threat while around them people moved on with their lives.

There was an old saying about the clothes maketh the man. Croaker understood the point but believed the man in front of him was one of those clear exceptions. He doubted any rags could hide the power and force of personality that simmered behind the Avada eyes that threatened to see through his robe's enchantments through sheer willpower alone. He also didn't miss the clenching of the fingers that indicated a readiness to release a wand. The Professor would happily admit he breathed a deep sigh of release when the tension eased out of the very dangerous individual before him.

“The mysteries of the world are as vast as the infinite space of time and the mind has an infinite capacity for beauty and horror that is equalled within those mysteries.” Sal announced, and Croaker was quick with the counter-sign.

“But there are no true mysteries in this world, only the lack of understanding in how to open our eyes to see.”

The stand-off ended with Salazar giving Croaker a slight bow and smile, the deadly air around him vanishing as though never there to begin with. The Unspeakable mirrored the more and set off towards the security desk.

“I'm glad you arrived early, Mister Sal,” Croaker told him as they bypassed a guard who seemed to be measuring wands of all those entering the Ministry. “There's much to talk about and I worried we wouldn't have enough time to do so before the meeting.”

“I have to admit at being surprised your people are still active,” Sal said once they entered a lift. Those waiting took one look at his companion's outfit and stepped back rather than intrude on Unspeakable business. This caused Sal to snort in amusement at the mixture of awe and fear the robes caused. “Pleasantly surprised.”

“We're only loosely connected to the Ministry. The only control it has over us is the budget and then that doesn't truly matter as we're still connected to the other side. They give us enough to cover whatever the corrupt idiots above us skim off the top.”

“I know,” Salazar stated, standing at parade rest as the lift moved to its destination. “Your group was designed that way from the very beginning.”

He said no more as the door opened and followed Croaker deeper into the bowels of the building. They passed another Unspeakable who was finishing up a talk with some Ministry flunky.

“I was never here, this conversation never happened.”

Salazar chuckled darkly at the magic that dripped from the words and shook his head. Croaker turned his enough to look at the man without losing sight of where they were going.

“Interesting, a modified Fidelius charm connected to the position of Head Unspeakable rather than the person in the position. Those words are also modified so that security levels can know the same Secrets across the board,” the Lord Slytherin explained his humour. “I would guess that less than ten percent of all none leaders in your department are even aware of how the secrecy charm works even as they often as they're used.”

Croaker stumbled at the blasé explanation of the core power of the Unspeakables and couldn't hide the shock he felt. “How, in all that's magical, do you know _that_?”

“Spoilers, Professor,” Sal smirked, his eyes shining with mirth and power. He had no idea who had finished the equations for that specific charm, but he knew the origins lay with Godric and Morgana. “Shouldn't we get to our destination?”

It was a quiet Croaker who led Salazar into the Department of Mysteries. Avada eyes scanned everywhere, taking in everything while Occlumency at a level unheard of in the modern day catalogued far more than the Unspeakable would have believed possible. The two men entered the Professor's office and sat, the robed man pulling back his hood to reveal himself for the very first time.

Croaker had balding light brown hair and dark, piercing eyes as well as an air of a man who should not be crossed. Salazar looked away from those questioning eyes to take in the office and found it eerily similar to Rowena's. Books and notes were everywhere but Sal was positive all the important things were heavily put away. A second door was against the far wall and this opened to reveal another Unspeakable who also had his face revealed.

The new man looked so much like Sal's reborn brother that he could only guess he was some type of Longbottom. This was confirmed when the first spoke up.

“As I said before, I am Saul Croaker, the Head Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries,” the Professor waved a hand towards the new man as he continued. “This is Algernon Longbottom, my second in command, my brother-in-law and the only other person working here who is aware of your existence.”

“There is a reason you brought up the familial relationship,” Salazar replied in a chilled voice, watching the man he suspected was 'Uncle Algie' sit. “So, tell me, gentlemen, what is it you know about my existence?”

“Somehow you are Lord Slytherin,” Algernon answered, blue eyes bravely meeting green. “Not _a_ Lord Slytherin but _the_ Lord Slytherin. Something that was detailed as a possibility in the records that can only be accessed by people in our positions. It is also hidden within a Fidelius Charm that, as far as our predecessors are aware, doesn't have a Secret-Keeper.”

“It does,” Sal scoffed at the idea of people thinking they could take apart something his sister had created. “It's just not a _mortal_ Secret-Keeper. It's a spirit, and that is all you are going to learn about that.”

It was clear on the faces of the two Unspeakables that they weren't happy with his answer, just as it was clear by Salazar's glare that he wasn't going to expand on it.

“You really are Salazar Slytherin, co-Founder of Hogwarts and reputed Dark Lord?” Croaker demanded in a less than respectful tone that caused Salazar's eyes to narrow.

“And you, being the head of my sister's _literati,_ are the _amicus_ _curaie_ for the Wizengamot,” Sal sneered back before turning to the Longbottom Unspeakable. “Which makes _you_ the head of my own _canes_ _pugnaces._ Now that we've proven everyone's credentials, perhaps you two could get to the bloody point?”

The two Unspeakables went white when Sal proved to be in possession of information never released outside of the Department of Mysteries. The Unspeakables were the true Men of Letters, giving all their time to learning the secrets of everything. Croaker held the Friend of the Court position and was the liaison between the Department and the Wizengamot. It had also once been the position that provided far more Royal Wizards than any other. While all of this might have been found through research, it was the knowledge of Longbottom's role that truly shocked the two men. The War Dogs were a grouped forged by Salazar to be the silent shadows of the courts and government. Men and women trained to be spies, assassins and king makers against those who looked to harm the people.

It was the Unspeakable War Dogs who accounted for most of the Death Eaters dying in the Blood War before another Unspeakable betrayed them.

The two men swallowed hard as they finally accepted it really was Salazar Slytherin in front of them.

“How?” Longbottom croaked out.

“A familial magical sacrifice that allowed four people to transfer their consciousness and magic through their bloodlines,” Sal answered, completely okay with telling the two men. The oaths on their positions meant that the two men had to be far more loyal to him and the other Founders than even to their own people. “In layman’s terms, we gave up the magic of our firstborns as a sacrifice and replaced it with our essences. As being born without magic, even to a magical parent, wasn't the stigma it is now, that sacrifice our children paid was not that difficult to live with.”

“A blood ritual?” Croaker's eyebrows raised while Sal merely shrugged.

“Godric was the Battle Mage between us even though there was rarely a wizard nor witch that I could not best if I wanted,” he answered and there was no feeling of false bravado in the words. “My talents still lean more in the inner magics - Potions, Mind Arts, Rituals – but I am good enough to in all other areas. Now, I ask once more, what are we doing here?”

There was no doubting to the two Unspeakables that Salazar Slytherin did _not_ enjoy repeating himself.

“As you've no doubt worked out, our oaths are the exact same as they were when you were first ah...alive,” Croaker explained with a cringe as Salazar scoffed. The vows put into place to govern the Department of Mysteries were the most ironclad and unforgiving outside of a goblin blood contract and had deliberately been set up that way. The Snake Lord could only imagine the penalties imposed on those who tried to work around them, and his dark smirk let the two men know his thoughts. “As such we are still bound to you and the other Founders rather than the people about to meet above us.”

The two men knew it had taken some very delicate manoeuvring on the betrayer’s part to work with the Dark Lord and only then because of unique circumstances.

“The two of us were informed when you were...Awakened, I think the phrase in our files calls it, and no, neither of us actually know how the alarms could tell when it happened. The archives only mention the monitoring devices arrived at some point after you four did whatever it was you did to be able to come back. No details on who provided them nor how they work and yes, many have tried to work _that_ out down the years as well.”

It was only Sal's iron will that kept him from laughing at the pained expression on Croaker's face. Longbottom continued on to give his friend a chance to recover his composure.

“What we would like, Lord Slytherin, is an idea on what you and Lady Ravenclaw are up to, if we can do anything to help, and inquire about the other two Founders.”

“If you are 'uncle Algie' or know of who Neville Longbottom calls such then I _highly_ suggest making sure an apology is sent to Hogwarts post haste,” Salazar sneered at the man who began to pale at what was being hinted at. “The way your family has treated my brother is a disgrace and I am half a mind to honour duel the entire lot of you, including his grandmother!”

Algernon Longbottom, one of the most experienced Unspeakables alive, cringed in his chair like a disobedient child at the dressing down and swallowed hard at the idea of his great-nephew “the squib” being Godric Gryffindor.

“As it is, I expect an Unspeakable healer to go to St. Mungo's and fully evaluate his parents. I want them scanned so thoroughly I should be able to tell what their mothers ate while they were still in the womb! I will also receive written permission from Regent Longbottom allowing me any and all attempts at bringing those two out of whatever misdiagnosed hell your incompetent Healers have placed them in. If she refuses, you will remind that woman of our chat in Diagon Alley over the summer and make sure she understands I do not give idle threats. Are these instructions clear enough for you?”

By this point Sal's eyes were glowing with power and emotion and 'uncle Algie' could only nod his obedience. Croaker felt it was about time and had been disgusted with his brother-in-law when he heard the stories of his treatment of the Longbottom Scion. The Professor did his best not to cringe when those rage-filled eyes turned his way.

“I assume you are fully briefed on the truth about Merlin Ambrosius' war against our family lines?” Croaker nodded, and Salazar snarled as he continued. “Albus Dumbledore truly _is_ the second Merlin in this case and has been doing his best to see that bastard's wish fulfilled. As such, he is now enemy number one to this Department. I will need a full breakdown of his history, his movements and actions as Chief Warlock, and by Magic Herself, I want an answer over the entire Sirius Black issue!”

“I can answer that,” Algernon answered, quickly, desperate to regain some face with the irate dark wizard. “But first, I take it that you are, in fact, Harry Potter?”

A sharp nod was all the Unspeakable got but it was enough.

“Alice was named your magically sworn godmother just as Lily Potter was named the same for Neville. Cyrus Greengrass was named sworn godfather to Neville even though he's been consistently denied access by orders of Dumbledore. I don’t understand why Augusta has agreed with Dumbledore but Neville should have grown up with Cyrus’ two girls.”

“And myself?”

“Sirius Black. It is magically impossible for him to have betrayed you or the Potters to Voldemort.”

Sal's fingers clenched around the chair's arm and there was a crack as his magic boosted strength caused the wood to break. The air thickened with tension only for Sal to take three deep breaths and pull everything behind his Occlumency shields.

What followed was the beginnings of a war council detailing how to bring Black's innocence into the light as well as what to do with Dumbledore. Sal was also told that his name was up for swearing into his Wizengamot seat and that the order of the session had been arranged so that he was first business.

Just as Sal was getting ready to leave for the Wizengamot sessions, Croaker asked about Voldemort's claim at being the Heir of Slytherin.

“That worthless dung beetle who killed my parents be my heir? Ha! I, Lord Salazar Antioch Slytherin, do hereby disown and disinherit Thomas Marvolo Riddle. I stricken him from the Slytherin bloodline, withdraw his rights to the Slytherin Magic and name him enemy of my blood and clan from this day forth.”

Salazar flashed as magic took his oath and saw it just. The two Unspeakables could only stare as he swirled out of the office as though he owned it, leaving them both with the same thought.

The legends of Salazar Slytherin did not do him justice.

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Sal's anger did not take him away from his plans. The only reason why his swearing in had appeared on the session's notes was that he had sent his magic pulsing through his Lordship rings before he had even left Hogwarts. This gave the magic of the Wizengamot chamber enough time to be included in the day's business but late enough that the revelation of his rings being taken up would not have reached unwelcome ears.

It was, as the Weasley twins would accuse, a prank on the government.

A hush followed the infamous Founder as he moved through the Ministry. Those who saw him knew that this man was not one to tangle with in either power or influence. The long metallic grey coat brushed his Achilles as he moved with the shoulders and back protected by the claws of the Ukrainian Ironbelly that he had killed. It was, like most of Sal's accessories, blood-bound and so capable of being summoned to him after he had entered his vault in this new life.

He ignored all he passed, including the other Lords and Ladies as they moved like a stream of political power towards the Wizengamot chambers. Whispers rushed around him as people did their best to guess just who the strange man with the powerful and familiar eyes was. Even with their many years at the Great Game, all missed the very subtle nod that went between Salazar and Lord Greengrass.

The Chambers doors opened, and the crowd flowed quickly through the opening, leaving a smirking Salazar to stand in his own island of peace as those around him made sure not to get too close. Sal waited until everyone was through and then nodded to the Auror guards as they eyed him with suspicion. He simply brought up his hand to brush against his chest in a movement that mirrored what he did to Lord Greengrass. The guards’ eyes widened when they saw the ring he wore and his smirked widened as he strode into the chambers to stand ready to once again take up his seat.

Albus Dumbledore was not having a good year. Oh sure, the fiasco with the basilisk and Chamber of Secrets was annoying and Lucius Malfoy's attempts to rip him from his kingdom had caused the Chief Warlock to almost lose his temper, but it was nothing like what had happened since the start of summer.

The brutal deaths of the Dursleys had freed Harry from the prison Dumbledore had put him in. While there was still an echo of the Blood and other wards around Privet Drive, they were, for all intents and purposes, utterly useless. As far as his instruments were concerned, they weren't even draining Harry of any magic as they should have been.

When Dumbledore found his lost lamb to the slaughter in the Leaky Cauldron, he saw no problems with allowing the boy a summer staying in Diagon. A few extra Aurors who were exceedingly vicious in their attitudes towards Death Eaters and there would be no way the escaped Sirius Black could have gotten to Harry while he was there. What Dumbledore never considered was the changes living in Diagon would make in the boy. And that's not including whatever the damn Sorting Hat had done to him in the Chamber.

Potter had walked into Hogwarts, Dumbledore's Hogwarts, as though the boy owned the place and proceeded to rip apart decades worth of planning and implementation. He and the Lovegood girl had waltzed into Dumbledore's castle with highly dangerous snakes and proceeded to use, abuse, and manipulate the Hogwarts Charter for their own good. It was a minor miracle considering Dumbledore had done his very best to rid the castle and country of every trace of the original copies so that only the more modern version was available to anyone not a staff member. That the staff members never thought to ask for the original copies, as was their right, meant that no one would know what was or wasn’t allowed in the school, just as Dumbledore had planned.

Yet somehow Harry Potter had found and memorised a copy of the original. If it wasn't for the sheer Gryffindor attitude of the boy, Dumbledore would have sworn the Horcrux had finally come loose and taken over the boy. He was far too improved over the past two years, the summer homework Severus had shown him was of such a standard that an OWL student would have been proud, and he was breaking down the barriers between the Houses as though they weren't even there.

The bearded man sitting in the Chief Warlock's seat sighed as the rabble entered the Chambers. He was so close to his end goal he could almost taste it. Sirius Black would die sooner rather than later leaving the main Black line going through either Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter. Tom was mere years away from coming back and could be trusted to kill both prophesied children, completely ending the Gryffindor lines that both held. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw lines were forever gone and it would be easy for Dumbledore to finally kill off Tom while trapping his fragmented spirit in a container for eternity, thus ending Slytherin's polluted and diseased House. It would also be easy for him to make sure the Malfoys suffered for their following of their Dark Lord and so finally taking out the Le Feys as well.

If Dumbledore was honest, something he did his very best not to be, he would freely admit that he didn’t enjoy the ending of such prominent and important bloodlines. But the Tome of Emrys had been clear that the power of those families was too dangerous to be left unchecked. There had been too many free thinkers, Dark Lords, revolutionaries, and political powerhouses to come from the bloodlines that the magical world never had a chance to settle into the type of society it could be. Dumbledore only had to remember his shock at discovering a link between the Grindelwald family and a distant cousin to the Peverells to show how quickly such power corrupted good men. Gellert’s remote ties to the thankfully dead House Ebonstone was the reason why Albus finally entered the war to stop his former friend’s rampage.

The Archmage pulled himself from his thoughts as he watched the Wizengamot settle. Magic was unlike anything else in the world as it had multiple levels of maturity. Dumbledore's blue eyes scanned the crowd to pick out those who were above the norm. There was a smattering of Masters and perhaps a Warlock or two in the Wizengamot but no one that could approach Dumbledore's sixth maturity level of being an Archmage; someone who were perfect users of their craft while capable of fighting and defeating those whose magic lay in other areas. For Dumbledore was a true master at wielding both Transfiguration and Alchemy on a level most could not conceive. Only James Potter had ever looked to supplanting him in the first while Dumbledore's mentor Nicolas Flamel still held back secrets in the second. Only Tom, an Archmage because of ability in the Dark Arts and Rituals was a match to him in pure magical power.

It was said that only the Founders and the bitch Le Fey matched Merlin's level of being a Sorcerer/Sorceress of Magic. Dumbledore frowned as his thoughts moved back to the current thorn in his side as he remembered that Harry Potter’s medical after facing the basilisk already had him on the third stage maturity . It was only skill, knowledge and experience that kept the boy from being able to wipe the floor with everyone within Hogwarts who wasn't named Dumbledore, Snape, or McGonagall.

Dumbledore was just about to open the Wizengamot session when the doors opened once more to reveal a man that stopped Dumbledore's heart cold. The long hair was tied back as a true Lord, the dragon-hide jack looked more like a warrior's cloak than a simple accessory, but it was the eyes that brought him out into a cold sweat. Avada eyes. Eyes the exact shade of Lily and Harry Potter but with far, far too much experience and knowledge within them.

_Be careful what you wish for, Albus._ He absently thought to himself as the man strode out into the centre of the room as though he owned it.

“Aurors! Arrest that man!” The annoying voice of one Cornelius Fudge broke through everyone's shock while Salazar's smirk grew until it was a wolfish grin.

“Has this body fallen so far that the Minister is allowed to arrest a House Lord simply on a whim?”

Those who were aware of the innocence of one Sirius Orion Black winced at the comment.

“Aurors hold,” a powerful female voice cut through the tense atmosphere and kept any wand-happy Aurors in place. No one missed the rising of the plinth and its crystal ball from the Chambers' floor in response to the ancient magic within Salazar's ring. “And Minister, I would remind you that the Auror force is not your personal guard.”

Fudge winced at the glare from the monocled Amelia Bones, her faded red hair cropped short in a no-nonsense manner.

“Scribe, we obviously have a Lord here waiting to claim his seat,” Madam Bones said, turning her deadly gaze to the twitchy man sitting below the Chief Warlock's podium. “Please announce who it is we are receiving.”

“Perhaps the Chief Warlock would like to open the session first?” Sal asked, his voice dropping to a dark caress that caused many with the Dark Mark to have flashbacks. He tilted his head to the side and his eyes were twinkling with challenge towards Dumbledore.

“Who are you?” Dumbledore demanded, not even bothering to do as requested. His instincts were telling him to kill the stranger now before anything could be done and that worried Dumbledore. Not even his battle with Grindelwald had caused him to react so.

“Ah ah, Chief Warlock,” Sal said, tutting as he wiggled his finger as though Dumbledore was an errant child. “We must keep things in order. Do be a good boy and announce the opening of this equinox’s session.”

There was no way that Sal was going to allow his seat claiming to happen outside of an opened session. That way allowed for his claim to be legally put in stasis even if it was magically accepted.

“Scribe, who is it that stands before the Wizengamot?” Dumbledore tried again only for the Scribe to swallow hard and refuse to say. The man had read the names and knew that just one of the Lordships was enough to make sure he was never seen again. Dumbledore frowned when it became obvious the Scribe wasn't going to answer.

Sal merely sent a raised eyebrow towards Madam Bones who mentally winced when she realised the political game being played. _Merlin, he has hasn't even been introduced yet and this is happening_ , she thought, unsure if she wanted to see the broom crash that was about to happen yet knowing she couldn't look away.

“Chief Warlock, please open the session,” she sighed in resignation, only to get a pleased nod from the green-eyed man. The Lady Bones wasn't entirely sure she would enjoy his thanks.

“Now, Amelia, there's no rush,” Dumbledore tried, causing Amelia Bones to clench her jaw at the familiar tone. “We just need to know the man's name.”

“That is not how things are done, Chief Warlock,” Lord Greengrass called out, standing so that all eyes could easily turn to him. He too got a singular nod of thanks from Sal. “These sessions are opened and then people are announced. That is how always has been unless you plan to tell us _why_ you’re looking to hold us up.”

“Now see here,” Fudge boomed as much as the fat man could once he realised people had stopped noticing him. “We're simply trying to make sure this person is someone who has a right to stand before us!”

Salazar wondered if it was the scorn Fudge used in 'person' or simply the attitude that caused the entire assembly to rise in annoyance. The clash of people for or against the two political men holding up proceedings lashed around Sal without any type of effect as he continued to grin at Dumbledore. The older looking man had lost his genial appearance and it was easy to see both fear and anger in the blue eyes.

Sal's patience ran out after two minutes when it became obvious that no one was attempting to control the insanity. He fully released his aura and the Avada magic poured out until it filled the area where he stood, a thick malaise of power that stunned everyone present. The speed at which he pulled in his aura only added to the shock as it showed just how much control he had over his magic.

Sal never took his eyes from Fudge's and allowed his to continue glowing with power until the fool backed down and ordered Dumbledore to open the session. A blink later and the Eldritch shine was gone as though never there but those who had seen it would always remember how it made them feel. Dumbledore was forced to do as he was meant to, knowing that any further delay would push himself firmly into politically attacking the man that put all his instincts on edge. He decided to hold back any type of attack and it would be a decision he would regret almost instantly.

“I call to order the September Equinox session of the Wizengamot in the re-calendared year 1993. Our first order of business is a new Lord to claim his seat.”

The Chief Warlock turned to demand Salazar's name from the Scribe, but the Founder never gave the old fool a chance. He immediately stepped forward to place his left palm on the crystal and called out with a powerful voice.

“I, Sal Slytherin,” gasps and swearing followed the name and Dumbledore's head snapped around to gape at the smirking Salazar. “Lord of House Slytherin do take up my position as Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Peverell,” Dumbledore's wand arm jerked as the wand he had been using for decades attempted to find its new master while some of the Wizengamot members shrieked at the infamous name of the House of Death. “As Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin and as Regent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. So I say, so mote it be.”

There was a moment of utter silence at the speech and the feral grin sent Dumbledore's way was as clear to all there. The silence barely lasted before the Chambers once again exploded in noise at the natural disaster that had just rocked their world. Sal could only laugh as his pulse raced at being, once again, the basilisk among the sheep.

 

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OoOoO

 

 

**SN: I'd like to take the time to talk about Magical power and potential. In this chapter I mention something about different magical maturities and wanted to address this. It's an idea that I came up with when reading the books, fanfiction and other media. The way I see this is the same as what athletes and musicians learn; namely it is always a mixture of nature _and_ nurture when developing a skill.**

 

**My “magical maturity levels” are part of all my stories but especially so when crossed with superheroes. I have a massive database of Marvel characters whose abilities have been codex as though they're a magical level in order for me to assess who is where and how they would face off against someone else.**

 

**In summary, once a child has reached Hogwarts years their magic could go either way as to focus on only one area above the rest or be adaptable to multiple branches of magic.**

 

**Grade 1 – Pre-teens**

**Grade 2 – OWL level magicals**

**Grade 3 – Journeyman magicals. NEWTS and Masteries**

**Grade 4 – Masters of their Craft. Those who are true geniuses with their chosen field. McGonagall in Transfiguration is an example.**

**Grade 5 – Warlocks. Those who can be grade 4 with multiple fields. These are those who have the ability to gain a Mastery in multiple branches of magic. Harry in canon has the potential to do this (DADA and Charms) while Hermione is definitely here.**

**Grade 6 – Mancers. Those who are one with their chosen magics. Think DoM battle in the film and how Dumbledore uses Transfiguration. It is an extension of Grade 4.**

**Grade 7 – Mages. Upperclass Warlocks. Essentially Mancers but with more than one field.**

**Grade 8 – Sorcerers/Sorceresses. Think Doctor Strange/Marvel level.**

 

**But this does not mean that it's a clear-cut winner between different levels. Dumbledore would kick McGonagall's arse not because they're at different grades but he has a greater control over the same type of magic she uses. Flitwick could be either level 4 or 6 and defeat Dumbledore. Not saying he _would_ , only that he _could_. And of course, this isn't counting the fact that some people simply don't care to learn everything. Ron Weasley could be the most powerful character in regards to raw potential and power but never be considered more than a Grade 2 or 3 simply because he doesn't work his magic into growing to its fullest potential. And naturally, Hermione is going to push her magic to its very limit.**

 

**So there you go, a brief summary of how I organise characters in my stories on skill and power.**

 


	8. Petrified Politics

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

Petrified Politics

 

The world was ending. It was Dumbledore’s only thought as he stared at the man who had just revealed himself to be in possession of not only the Slytherin and Peverell Lordships, but also being the Potter Regent.

_How? How is this possible?_ The Chief Warlock’s furious mind demanded as the man took his hand off the identification crystal and laughed as the Wizengamot Chambers descended into chaos. The loss of his magical connection to the Potter Seat was almost drowned out by the chaos of Dumbledore’s internal and external worlds crashing down around him. _Is it Tom?_

A quick glance over to the panicked Dark section of the Wizengamot negated that theory. Lucius Malfoy was as pale as a Patronus and currently gripping his cane tight enough that it was a surprise the thing hadn’t snapped. Other followers looked on the verge of drawing their wands on the man who had just claimed their Master’s much publicised lineage. A glance to the Light showed a great many of those shouting their outrage had their fear bare for all to see.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to the man who caused all the insanity. The laughter had ended almost as soon as it began and now the powerful green eyes were narrowing in some type of negative emotion.

“Enough!” The whiny cry of Cornelius Fudge cut through the noise and Sal’s eyes focused on the lime-green wearing politician. “Aurors, arrest this man! He’s obviously a fraud!”

Those Aurors on the lower floor of the chambers never had a chance to move. Sal released his hold on his magic the moment he picked up what Minister’s order was going to be. The men and women in red robes froze, as did the majority of the Wizengamot, when the air around Salazar blurred and twisted from the power of his magical aura. Light and gravity bent and twisted around the Avada haze that swelled outwards from the stranger and more than one person whimpered from the raw power on display.

“Corneliusss Fudge, Minissster,” Sal’s voice reached every ear even with its low hiss. The man in question almost collapsed in on himself from the fury he saw in the green orbs glaring his way. Some members of the Wizengamot winced as their forearms twitched from the far too familiar mode of speaking and the marble floor beneath Sal’s feet cracked under the pressure from his magic. “Are you saying that I have somehow fooled magics older than all of us combined, or are you about to arrest a Lord simply because you don’t like my name?”

“Aurors, stand down,” Amelia Bones demanded, surprising herself at the lack of tremor in her voice. It was only when everyone’s hands had moved away from their wands did the Lord Slytherin’s magic ease off and allow the room to breathe easier. “And I will remind you _again_ , Minister, that the Aurors are not your personal guard. The oath was accepted and that’s that.”

Cornelius Fudge looked around the chambers and couldn’t stop himself wincing. Slytherin’s challenge still hung in the air and had done far more to damage his reputation and standing with the Houses than Amelia’s reprimand. The shocking thing for Cornelius Fudge was that it was the Grey Houses who looked most affronted by his actions. The silent majority of the Wizengamot seemed to be supporting the new Lord and his political senses were all telling him that a changing wind was fast approaching. If there was one thing Fudge hated above everything else, it was change.

“My apologies, Lord Slytherin,” Fudge managed to force himself to say, attempting to look at the powerful man without facing those dangerous eyes. “The country is still scarred over the last person associated with your name.”

Salazar smirked at the opening he was given and walked straight through it before anything more could be said.

“And that is why my family has been in the shadows all these years, Minister,” he answered in a calm, deep voice that held none of the hissing of his previous words. “For too long have false heirs and dirty whispers sullied the proud name of Slytherin. I am here to show the Wizengamot and the county what it _truly_ means to be of Slytherin blood.”

No one missed the strike against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and many of the monster’s followers stiffened at their Master being named liar over being the Slytherin heir. It was only the memory of Salazar’s magic pressing down on them that stopped the idiotic from standing up and opening their mouths and even then, it was a close call. It was a surprise to Sal when he saw the one person who did stand after his declaration.

“The Most Ancient House of Innocenti welcomes the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin back to these chambers,” the man speaking looked so much like Sal’s brother-in-law that the Awakened Founder was forced to briefly overpower his Occlumency just to gain control of his emotions. “And may I add, it has been far too long.”

Salazar bowed, shocking those watching with giving the Lord Innocenti a bow of equals rather than of a superior as their respective House statuses would indicate. Especially considering House Innocenti only ever had proxies while their Lord and heirs safely stayed in Italy.

“It warms my heart to see the Great House Innocenti’s presence in this chamber,” There was no mistaking the truth in Sal’s words. After all, his wife’s name had once been Belladonna Innocenti, youngest daughter of the then Lord Innocenti. “House Slytherin looks forward to reaffirming the alliance between our two families.”

The ripple from Salazar’s announcement was a muffled shockwave through the politics of Wizarding Britain. House Innocenti was a Great House, a family who stood as mother and father to other Houses equally recognised by the Wizengamot, and to be allied with the Innocentis was to be tied with all their cadet lines. One such line was the influential House Zabini. That Salazar was _also_ a head of a Great Family, namely the Peverells, meant that a formal alliance between the two had the potential to completely destabilise the decades-old political foundations of the Great Game.

One person who was fully aware of what was going on was the very worried Amelia Bones. Her family might be considered Light-Grey but that was only because the depth of their Family Magic was carefully kept from interested eyes. The Bones family were not above changing their family’s name to hide their Necromantic roots and keep their links to House Peverell a secret. Now it appeared that someone was stepping up and had the power to affect not only Amelia’s life but that of her niece’s as well. Amelia was not about to let a potential threat to Susan go unquestioned.

“Speaking of welcoming you back, Lord Slytherin,” she spoke up, unaware that Albus Dumbledore would quite happily kiss her for what she was about to say next. “Just where has your family been all these centuries?”

Salazar looked at the grey-eyed woman and suddenly Amelia felt as though he was staring deep into her soul even with her mind protected.

“Lady Bones, a pleasure,” he answered with drawl that bordered on the seductive. “My family went into the shadows of Europe and beyond, letting our founder’s legacy of Hogwarts stand on its own merits. We’ve watched from the side-lines, willing to let the world believe the name of Slytherin  to have died out, only for it to become apparent that it was time to step back into the light and take up our role within this community.”

The last part had many on the Light side shivering and Dumbledore immediately jumped at the change to prove this new threat was as Dark as they came. “And what role is that, Mister Slytherin?”

Salazar stared up at the man who was a threat to himself and his family and said nothing, merely meeting the aged wizard’s gaze. Dumbledore couldn’t help himself and immediately dived into Dark Wizard’s mind. Or tried to. Sal was the undisputed Mind-Arts Master and merely smirked as he felt the brush of magic against his mind. He instantly activated one of his mind traps and enjoyed the results.

While Rowena had been forced to create an entirely new branch of Mind Magic to aid her in dealing with both her childhood trauma and the intensity of her Sight, Salazar had been a pioneer in protecting and attacking minds. A person could protect their mind from the strongest attacks but any time they themselves looked to read another’s mind, it always left a small crack in their shields. It was impossible to totally shield and attack at the same time and many failed to learn that this small opening in their shields was exactly where the Legilimency probe was sent from.

The only way the defending mind could attack back through that hole was to push their mind and magic into the probe itself, opening themselves completely up to the probe. Not even Salazar had found a way of protecting himself while piggy-backing an attack. Instead, Salazar devised a way of turning an attacker’s mind against itself.

As Dumbledore’s probe triggered the trap, the Chief Warlock’s magic slipped into a mental world of fractal mirrors that reflected everything they saw through the opening in his own mind. The more Dumbledore pushed, the more he opened himself up to seeing the deepest and darkest parts of himself in a distorted kaleidoscope of images. Old loves, former enemies, hopes and dreams, as well as fears and nightmares reflected back at Dumbledore and he found himself unable to pull away from the trap.

The only downside to the defence was that the defending mind only picked up vague hints and impressions of the attacker. It was simply impossible to read the enemy’s mind.

Sal simply allowed the old man to keep trying to read his thoughts until he felt the silence had gone on long enough. He took hold of the mental probe and wrenched it, snapping the magic with enough force that Dumbledore jerked just as Salazar began his speech.

“I thank you for that question, Chief Warlock,” Sal looked around the room and knew that only Amelia Bones had caught both Dumbledore’s reaction and the reason why. She was glaring at the now pale man who quickly realised that Sal could have stopped him at any time. “Regardless of what others might think, House Slytherin remains rooted in its desire to educate and help the next generation of wizards and witches achieve their potential. And so, as a newly appointed Head of House, I bring news of a threat to the very foundation of our educational system, nay, of our very society itself. Today, Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, House Slytherin wishes to reveal an insidious poison infecting the very school the founder of House Slytherin helped created. A poison that threatens to destroy us all.”

Sal looked around the chambers and knew what the majority of those looking back were thinking. _Mudbloods_. He internally smirked, enjoying the game of leading them in one direction only to attack from another. There were murmurings and much shifting in seats, but no one dared interrupt him.

“I have here,” he continued, pulling from his cloak’s inner pocket a thick scroll. A wave of his free hand and duplicates were given to everyone in the chambers. “The proof of my statements. Since 1981, the number of people qualified to become an Auror dropped over sixty percent. The number of people qualified to even _begin_ the application process of protecting you and your heirs dropped by over half. That’s less people protecting you or your heirs if someone from Knockturn decides to strike out against one of the great Houses, less people qualified in finding out who tried that assassination attempt because of a business deal going bad.”

Sal was putting it on somewhat thick, but the point got across and he could see the worry in the eyes of those watching. He deliberately stayed away from mentioning anything about Dark Lords or local terrorists. The day to handle that viper’s nest wasn’t even close.

“But that’s okay,” he continued with a sneer. “If you _are_ hurt then we have plenty of people capable of healing you. Except that those qualified to become Healers _at any level_ dropped over seventy percent. Two-thirds of the people who might be able to heal a curse before it becomes lethal are no longer around. Two-thirds of those who might be able to save the Ladies and new borns of our Houses during a difficult birth are no longer around.”

“Two-thirds of those who could keep every one of us alive are no longer qualified,” Sal pushed on with a snarl. The constant talk of heirs was the key to grabbing some of the conservatives to his side and Salazar was delighted to see Dumbledore’s eyes widen as he worked out where Salazar was going with the performance. “But that’s okay. Sometimes we can buy the potions needed without worrying about a Healer. Except that those qualified for _any_ Potioneering position has dropped over ninety percent. The number of people _qualified_ to brew everything we rely upon as a society; from getting over a celebration of the birth of a new heir, to making sure that heir survives until Hogwarts, to making sure _any_ of us survive being cursed has dropped over _ninety percent!_ Soon enough there won’t be anyone around to provide any potions.”

By now the Wizengamot were growing restless and aggressive, clearly seeing the threat to their way of life that had, at first, seemed like hot air. And Salazar was only warming up to his big finally.

“Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, the people who invent the very potions we take to live and thrive have dropped ninety-five percent. Have a dangerous new outbreak of Dragon Pox? Don’t expect a cure or even an inoculation to be found. A long-forgotten illness in your family? You won’t be finding anyone who can aid you. And even those working with dangerous creatures are dropping at an alarming rate, meaning the very supplies our society depend upon for their potions and even clothing will soon vanish. And all of this, all these losses threating our very way of life can be laid at the feet of one man. One man is responsible for the slow, deliberate murder of our heritage, history, and future.”

Dumbledore swallowed hard as the Avada eyes of Salazar Slytherin burned with hatred and malice. No one missed the venomous smirk as he sent towards the Chief Warlock. “The man who has done this to us with no guilt, no remorse, and even glee, is one Severus Tobias Snape, Potions Professor at Hogwarts.”

And not for the first time since Sal walked into the Wizengamot, the room exploded with noise as those in power stood up to declare their outrage.

Sal didn’t bother supressing the sheer glee he felt at seeing the stunning look that Dumbledore was currently wearing. The Chief Warlock had spent years working on protecting Severus Snape, constantly reiterating his trust in the man no matter what political or legal questions were brought up, but he had never thought to cover the man over how he _taught_.

Salazar raised he hand and almost immediately a hush spread across the chambers. He had played the crowd perfectly, pointing out the threat to their family legacies and finances if the state of education continued as it did. Now it was time for the coup de grace.

“My fellow Lords and Ladies, I am fully behind your righteous anger over what is happening within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.”

“Alas, Lord Slytherin,” Dumbledore quickly interrupted before Sal could get on a roll. “The Ministry is unable to interfere with the way Hogwarts is run.”

“You’re correct, Chief Warlock,” Salazar bowed his head as though allowing the older man his victory only to then pull the carpet from beneath his feet. “Except of course in two specific situations; either the Head of Hogwarts allows such interference, or the available heirs and Head are in a deadlock about an issue concerning the school and then either can petition this body to be the arbitor. And I, as Lord Slytherin, demand this travesty to come to an end. What say you, Wizengamot?”

The day would only get worse for one Albus Dumbledore.

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OoOoO

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_Albania_

For twelve long years everyone sane had avoided a section of Albania’s forests. The rumours of voices in the shadows, speaking a strange hissing language began to appear one Christmas. Animals turned up dead, their corpses mutilated in strange and horrific ways that deeply unnerved the finders. The dread around the Dark Zone grew and when strange men from the government appeared and told everyone to avoid the area, no one questioned them. Even if they sometimes seemed out of place, wore strange clothes, or spoke of curses.

The people having to face the Dark Zone fully believed something Evil had come to Albania.

As such, there was no one to hear the agonising screams of a disembodied spirit as its Family Magic was forcefully ripped away. The shredded soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle didn’t know that he cried out for hours, he didn’t know that he whimpered from pain even greater than when his body was destroyed on a fateful Halloween. There was only one thing the man who turned himself into Lord Voldemort knew once he was able to think clearly; somehow, someway, he had lost the place as the most powerful wizard in the world.

Voldemort rage was a physical thing, twisting the air around his floating form until the very trees withered and died from his corruption. He slipped into the body of a snake that had stayed loyal to him and felt for the link between himself and his followers. One seemed closer than the rest and he pushed the snake in that direction. Voldemort was more desperate than he had ever been to regain a body and find out what had been done to him.

He would eventually learn that the very magic he had been born with had been stolen away. The magic of Tom Riddle was no more once Sal Slytherin stripped him of his link to the House Riddle had been so proud of. All that remained was the twisted augmentations that had turned Riddle into Voldemort. Augmentations that, without a Family Magic as a foundation, were not what they had once been.

The bloodbath to come over that discovery would be legendary.

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OoOoO

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_Wizengamot_

It had taken over half an hour of debating, politicking, and verbal manipulations for Salazar to get a result he was happy with. Those members of the Wizengamot who doubled as members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors finally agreed to grant Snape one chance at changing his attitude once the non-Slytherin students received their new books. It was only Dumbledore’s heavy pleading and promises that kept the Board from sacking the slimy bastard then and there.

None knew it was also what saved the man from Salazar’s murderous intent.

Sal had been horrified to learn that the Board and Wizengamot’s roles had been switched. The original setup had the Board being the intermediator between Hogwarts and the Council. The Council decided on what they wanted their children to learn and it was had been down to the Board to be the negotiators and convince the Founders. Now the Board had most of the power unless they were up against a Head who dug their heels in. Apparently, Dumbledore played politics with Sal’s school as much as he did in the Ministry and only rarely battled the Board when they decided on things. The Snake Lord almost lost control once he realised Hogwarts was just another piece in the chess game the Chief Warlock played.

“I thank the Wizengamot and the Board for their respective patience and decision,” he said, dipping his head to those around him. “I will prepare myself to take up the position of Potions Professor until a new one can be found.”

“Lord Slytherin,” Dumbledore called out as Salazar turned to finally take his seat. “You seem to misunderstand what has happened here.”

“Oh no, Chief Warlock,” he answered without turning around. Those watching saw a warrior walking tall and proud towards the most respected and feared seats in the chambers. “I haven’t misunderstood a thing.”

Nine Houses whose legacy and power were unmatched and unquestionable, nine Houses who had shaped their history in so many ways; Ambrosius, Danu, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Le Fey, Peverell, Pendragon, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Light, Grey, and Dark powerhouses. To sit in one of the chairs was to have the political and magical influence to practically bend the Wizengamot to their will.

For as much terror Lord Voldemort had caused Wizarding Britain, not even he had sat on the seat that Salazar was about to claim.

Lord Slytherin turned with a flourish and his harsh green gaze scanned across the room as though to judge each member there. Some sat taller as his eyes pierced theirs while others felt they had been found wanting. Some shivered in fear and some actually felt protected at the sight of the powerful man who had appeared from nowhere. Finally, the wizard sat like a king upon his throne, the headrest flashing to show the Slytherin crest in the carved wood to now be flanked by the Peverell and Potter crests. Crests that vanished from their own seats.

“You see, Chief Warlock,” Salazar continued and there was an underlying scorn in the use of the title that had some eyebrows raising. “My possession of Founder’s blood allows me to have first refusal for any teaching post at Hogwarts as long as I have the skills and there is no legal reason keeping me from taking up the post.”

Sal paused long enough for Dumbledore to be about to speak and then raised his hand, talking over the older man in a deliberate show of disrespect. “I don’t believe a man such as Severus Snape can change. Therefore, regardless of if the position is taken _now_ , I am sure I will be able to take it soon.”

The two powerful wizards locked gazes and it was Dumbledore who looked away first, ignoring the jab as best his could to move on to other business. He was gritting his teeth from both the pain of his failed Legilimency attack and that he had just lost for the first time since his victory over Grindelwald.

Oh sure, there had been times when he hadn’t gotten what he wanted from the Wizengamot, but he had not suffered an actual defeat after putting his full political and magical might to work. Dumbledore looked at the faces of those sitting around him and felt something he hadn’t felt in decades. The arrival and victory of the Lord Slytherin against his protection of Severus Snape had weakened his position enough that some were no questioning whether he was still the greatest wizard alive. Aged fists clenched as he silently swore to put the upstart permanently into place.

The first item was Minister Fudge claiming that taxes would have to rise to help fund the search for the dangerous right-hand man of You-Know-Who that was Sirius Black. The bowler hat wearing idiot was shot down when Salazar rose and went through a highly detailed breakdown of the state of the DMLE and Auror Department under Fudge’s time at the top. His ten-minute speech pointied out exactly how the man how weakened and cut the very force who were supposed to protect the country from such threats and yet _now_ he was wanting money.

Fudge had collapsed into his chair halfway through the reponse, face red with embossment and anger before Salazar had even pointed out the proposal didn’t even say the new money was going to the DMLE. He finally sat and there was a long silence before one of the Light Houses stood and clapped, breaking the dam for a massive swell of support. That the weakened Auror force was additionally affected by Snape’s Potion class made it easier to point out just how in danger the country was with an Auror force as weak as it was.

The result had Salazar smirking and Amelia Bones looking like she had wet herself in joy. Instead of agreeing with Fudge, a counter-proposal was given by one of the Grey Houses for increasing DMLE funding for at least the next seven years to give the forced change in Potions teaching a chance at aiding the DMLE numbers. It was voted for and won by a solid margin thanks to Sal’s 28 votes, and the Lady Bones gave Salazar a nod of thanks.

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OoOoO

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_Hogwarts_

To say Hermione was stressed and annoyed would be akin to pointing out she had an interest in reading. An utter understatement of epic proportions. She thought reducing how often she used her time-turner would cut back on the feelings and it had. She was sleeping better, she was able to think to her usual clarity now she wasn’t focusing on making sure no one found out she was in two places at once, and she could devote more time to the frustrating boy that was Harry James Potter.

Something dramatic had affected the boy who had rescued her from the troll and become her best friend during her time petrified. Something that made him walk taller, be smarter, quicker to speak out, and have far more knowledge than she ever expected of him. Harry had gone from cringing at the idea of being the heir of Slytherin to happily have a snake drape over his shoulders. And it wasn’t just any snake. It was a _basilisk_ that he enthusiastically hissed at in the Gryffindor common room and upsetting many members of their House. Oh sure, the twins thought it was an epic prank, but Hermione knew that Harry had somehow formed a deep connection with the _basilisk_.

A dangerous, able to kill with its sight and only, possibly, controlled by Parselmouths snake that possessed the deadliest venom in the known world.

If that wasn’t enough to throw Hermione Granger’s logically structured world out of order, Harry suddenly developed a need to befriend Neville Longbottom as well as now possessing an extremely violent protective nature over a second-year Ravenclaw. A Ravenclaw who seemed to _always_ be skipping either just ahead or just behind Hermione whenever she turned around. Although why Luna Lovegood would be stalking her while whistling the theme tune to the Twilight Zone, Hermione had no clue.

 And that’s didn’t even cover just how Harry knew about her Time-Turner in the first place.

It all combined to have one Hermione Granger pacing in an empty classroom near her beloved library while another version of herself was being a good little Gryffindor attending class. She had gone through the library up and down since coming back to Hogwarts in trying to find anything, no matter how small or outrageous, that might explain the changes in her best friend. And much to her annoyance, she had found absolutely nothing! No matter how many times Harry assured her that everything was fine, she knew there was something amiss. From deep within Hermione came a cry that vented all the emotions she was struggling with.

“I just want to know the truth!” She screamed out, her voice almost breaking into a sob at what might be affecting her best friend. The tears didn’t have a chance to fall as the room was suddenly filled with a flash of magical light.

She cried out in surprise and belatedly covered her eyes only to end up furiously rubbing them to clear her vision. What she finally saw had the Gryffindor girl frown with yet more confusion, a deep crease forming between her eyebrows as she eyed the book floating in front of her. The cover was a smooth leather that looked like it had been handled often, but there was no crease in the spine to suggest it had been read or even opened. The brown cover had the Hufflepuff crest taking up most of its space while the top corner had two golden Hs. Hermione’s similarly brown eyes widened at what the initials meant and couldn’t stop herself reaching out to take what could potentially be a book by one of the Founders.

Whatever magic held the book in the air vanished only when she had a firm grip of the tome. Hermione was in awe. Her love of history and learning derailing her emotional turmoil enough that she didn’t think about running her fingers over the raised crest. She had a moment to hiss as something sharp took her blood and then her eyes rolled back as she passed out while the magic and memories of Helga Hufflepuff Awakened inside of her.

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OoOoO

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Helga groaned as she slowly regained awareness of the real world.

Each of the Founders had their own methods for Awakening and Helga had done the seemingly sane thing and left her notebook in the library. It had been charmed so that only someone of her blood should even know about it, let alone remove it. That was until an overly nosey Headmaster used questionable magic to break the magic keeping the book in place and hid it in the Head’s private quarters for each subsequent position holder did their best to break open the book and learn her secrets. According to the information the book had managed to impart along with Helga’s memories, Hermione knew it was only through the actions of Hogwarts herself that kept the book from being destroyed by angry busybodies.

“Damn foolish magicals,” she groaned as she sat up, blearily looking around a room that was extremely familiar. She frowned in confusion as she took in a room that had once been Helga’s quarters. “How did I get here?”

“That would with the help of a new friend,” a dreamy voice answered, causing Hermione’s bushy head to snap around to see a much more focused Luna Lovegood leaning against the doorframe. She was smirking, her pale eyes twinkling from the fact she knew something others didn’t, and it was such a Rowena stance that it took Hermione’s breath away. “Hello, dear sister. It’s been a while.”

Helga snorted and shook her head at the blasé attitude. “Nine hundred years, give or take a decade. No wonder Harry has been so protective of you.”

“You know our Slytherin,” Rowena smiled, and it was so easy for the Gryffindor student to see her adult friend instead of the second-year Ravenclaw.

“Oh, I know him, alright,” Hermione growled as she swung her legs over the comfortable bed. “Cheeky bugger told me everything that happened in that bloody Chamber of his over the summer. Only he did it in a way that I would completely misunderstand him.”

Luna didn’t reply as her best friend and sister scanned the room, looking for anything out of place while her logical mind ran over everything that had happened in the past few months. The soft brown eyes narrowed, and she finally turned to glare at the waiting girl.

“Would you like to explain why Sal is acting so much like a Gryffindor?”

“Not particularly.”

Hermione had winced the moment she spoke and growled at her sister’s answer. Rowena had a vexing habit of refusing to answer if someone asked her a question in such a manner. She enjoyed pointing out that they should have asked for the information itself, not if Rowena wanted to give the information out. It was a verbal game she and Salazar would often play with others to sometimes devastating effects.

“So,” she sighed, trying a different tactic. “Who is this new friend that brought me here?”

“That would be Dobby,” Luna smiled, turning to look at where the elf in question had popped into the room from the mention of his name. “Dobby was the Malfoy elf who tried ‘helping’ Harry last year.”

Hermione blinked at the strange sight in front of her. The blushing male elf was wearing a perfectly accurate British military combat uniform, including a field belt that looked to be bulging with objects packed into its pockets. The Avada green beret was inch perfectly tilted and he had what looked like an old WWII sniper rifle strapped to his back.

“Dobby bes so glad Miss Grangepuff bes awake. Dobby was so worried for his Master Harazar’s Grangepuff. Dobby bes hunting when Miss Grangepuff bes Wakingening up.”

“This could only happen to you, Sal,” Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose at the elf’s language and cursed in old Welsh. “If I’m Grangepuff and Harry is Harazar, what does that make Luna?”

Helga Hufflepuff had been an incredibly bright woman, almost rivalling the unique brilliance that was Rowena. Hermione Granger _did_ match the smartest Founder in terms of intelligence even if her logical mind held her back as much as it helped. In neither life had the two ever been looked at by anyone as though they were the dumbest in the room and yet, that was _exactly_ what the strange house-elf was now doing. She deliberately ignored her sister’s giggles and waited for the shoe to the drop.

“Miss Luna,” Dobby said in a slow and precise manner as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. When he turned to the girl in question, what he spoke next had the little Ravenclaw losing all control. “Is Miss Grangepuff okays enough to be up?”

The only thing keeping Rowena from collapsing to the floor was the doorframe she desperately held on to as the giggles continued. It was almost like old times when their boys would do something so ridiculous that Helga either shut down from the insanity of the result or chased them through the castle in anger.

“She’s fine, Dobby,” Luna managed to giggle out. “Why don’t you go get Harry if he’s alone?”

The elf gave Luna one last disbelieving look and then shrugged, popping away to get his Master. Hermione ran a hand through her mass of curls and tried to process the insanity that had become her life. She was about to say something to the other girl when Dobby popped back with a familiar head of black hair facing away from the Gryffindor girl.

“Everything okay, Ro? Dobby said you were acting a bit strange.”

A twist of the wrist had a familiar wand slip into his waiting hand and Hermione eyed the Blackthorn stick that had been part of their lives for decades. The man she loved above all others was just beginning to scan the eye-rolling Luna when Hermione found her voice.

“Hello, Sal.”

The body of Harry Potter froze as though petrified and Hermione was sure there wouldn’t even be an intake of breath until he recovered. The wand began to slowly lower and Harry Potter turned, for once his emotions burning brightly in the eyes that had captivated her in both lives.

“I found my book,” she told him, gradually standing to not spook the deadliest man in the world. She never got to say anything else before he stepped forward to pull her into a desperate kiss that was beyond their thirteen-year-old bodies. It was a kiss of passion, of desire, of love, of a _need_ for both salvation and forgiveness, and she felt his familiar magic surrounding her in its gently embrace.

“I’ve missed you.”

His three words said so much more than that and all three knew it. Harry drew back and took stock of the woman of his dreams. Hermione was standing proud and tall, the mental addition of Helga giving her a self-confidence she didn’t have before. But that, and the magic and memories, were really the only changes her could see. She was still Hermione and that was just fine for the red-wearing snake. He had no doubt that the Awakening would affect Godric and himself far more than it had the girls considering their childhoods.

“I know,” she smiled, and the sun rose on his soul once again. The smile turned into a frown and Harry wondered if he needed to ask Dobby to pop him away before she got into a head of steam. “And you’re an idiot. You could have Awakened me at any point, so why the hell didn’t you?”

“Your parents?”

That tripped Hermione up before she hit her stride and she sighed, nodding her head at the simple explanation. It would have been such a Harry/Sal thing to think about. “You thought I had a close relationship with my parents? I suppose I can’t blame you for that.”

“What do you mean?” The love shifted, and Harry’s look took on that of a dangerous beast and she knew she had to defuse the situation before he went hunting.

“They didn’t hurt me, Harry,” she promised, shrugging at the reality of her second childhood. “They’re career dentists and never had time to devote to an accidental pregnancy. The only reason they didn’t abort was because it’s not ‘the done thing’. I was handed off to a rotation of nannies and sitters the moment it was convenient without damaging their reputation. It’s why they never even knew about my magic until McGonagall showed up, they were simply never there for the accidental episodes.”

Harry’s features had hardened as she explained her upbringing and her legendary patience with the deadly Lord Slytherin began to fray. She crossed her arms and glared at the man she loved. “You can’t kill everyone who ever has or will hurt me, Sal.”

Harry merely raised an eyebrow and Hermione sighed, only to remember _why_ Harry was in Diagon Alley all summer. “You killed the Dursleys.”

It was more statement than question and Harry didn’t feel the need to answer. Instead he looked at her blankly.

“You can’t kill everyone who hurts you,” she only got a single blink and ground her teeth and his stubbornness. “And you can’t kill everyone who hurts Rowena either!”

The snarl she received at that statement would have frightened anyone else, especially with Harry’s magic becoming visible at the sheer mention of any harm coming to his older-younger sister. The two had been so caught up in their little world, they never noticed Luna slipping behind Harry until her slender arms wrapped around him, instantly calming the dangerous man.

“That’s some elf you have there, Harry,” Hermione pointed out, agreeing to change the subject. She raised an eyebrow at his response.

“He was like that when I got him!”

Hermione smirked at the whine and then frowned as she remembered asked her previous question again. “Aside from my parents, why didn’t you Awaken me earlier?”

“I didn’t know about your parents and wanted you to have a good summer,” he immediately answered, squeezing Luna’s arms just before she let him go and moved around to sit on the bed to allow the trio to see each other. “Then you ended up using that cursed object to attend all the classes and there was no way I would force the Awakening on your core when it was being manipulated by Time Magic.”

Hermione sighed again at the logical argument, only to then narrow her eyes. “And the Chamber? Did Sebastian really hand over your sword to kill Slinky?”

“Charged the dangerous beastie,” Harry smirked playfully, the humour not quite lighting up his eyes at the thought of hurting his beloved friend.

“SEBASTIAN!” Hermione roared to the ceiling and the two Founders winced at her powerful lungs, memories surfacing of similar incidents when she would roar Sal or Godric’s names, and even Rowena’s on a few occasions. “Get your raggedy arse down here! I’ve got some questions for you!”

The Sorting Hat appeared with a pop on the bed and Helga spun, one hand on hip as she pointed at the headwear. It immediately bent in on itself, knowing the rant that was coming.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” She demanded of the item that they all treated as a cross between friend and child. “Did you think it was some type of joke sending Harry after Slinky the way Godric gets at the end of one of his binges?”

“Of course n…”

“And what in the name of the gods took you so long in Awakening any of us? We specifically gave you the ability to start the process. You could easily have done it during our Sortings.”

“Well, yes I…”

“And how the hells did our school turn out like this, Sebastian? Half the students are mis-Sorted, we’ve got at least four teachers not worth even being an Apprentice, and there’s a rampant history of Ministerial influence in our school. Interference, Sebastian!”

“Helga, ENOUGH!” The Hat snapped back at the raging woman. They all knew that they had to weather the force of one of her outrages until the moment she repeated herself, even if it was simply to emphasis a point. “I did the best I could. This is the very best future that Morgana Saw. Everything else would be so much worse.”

“What do you mean?” Helga demanded while the other two watched on. Sebastian sighed, and the Hat shifted as though to settle his thoughts before explaining.

“Morgana came to me not long after she Saw the threat to your bloodlines,” Sebastian’s voice had turned melancholic as he thought back to those early years of his existence. “She had worked out that this here was the best situation out of all possible outcomes aside from some highly complicated time travel. I was shown what she Saw and together we worked out what I could and couldn’t nudge; Sort this person in one House rather than another, give a Headmistress one piece of advice and then not say anything to another. That type of thing. It would all lead to Sal being Awoken first at a junction point that allowed him to be unseen by the Child of Emrys. That Rowena would follow as soon as possible was a given, it happened in practically every future Morgana Saw.”

“And Helga and Godric?” The Snake Lord asked with a sigh. A thousand-year manipulation sounded exactly like what Morgan Raven’s Claw would do.

“Helga’s book was fine, hidden in the Head’s office but fine,” Sebastian told them with his own sigh. “That was until Dumbledore took up the position and tried everything he could to destroy it save for Fiendfyre or basilisk venom. A few times Cassie was forced to step in and lend her magic to the book’s protections to keep it safe. He got so fed up with being unable to open or destroy the thing that he put it under a Fidelius in a hidden drawer.”

“So why was it calling out to me now?” Hermione questioned. The itch that had driven her mad the last few days in wanting _truth_ was the compulsion Helga had placed on it to make sure one of her blood Awoke when she was most needed. It was the same with Sal’s locket, Rowena’s diadem, and Godric’s sword.

“Ah,” Sebastian shifted in a move that was familiar to the Founders and three eyes narrowed at the sentient object. “That was me through Cassie. She’s desperate for you all to take your places and bring her back to her former glory but I put a geas in your mind during your Sorting to keep you from sensing the book. I cancelled it late last night.”

“Sssebasstian,” Salazar commanded, and the Hat cringed, knowing one of his principle makers was quickly losing his temper.

“You know it had to be this way, Sal,” the Hat quickly pushed on. “If Helga was Awakened before this point in time then everything would, not could, come crashing down around us. You creating the waves you have allows Helga here to shift her personality without people asking too many questions. Any earlier and things would have spiralled out of your control and innocents would be caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s what I picked up over the summer,” Luna confirmed to Hermione who was frowning.

The brown-eyed woman had never enjoyed anything relating to Divination even if she knew that the Raven’s Claw sisters were never wrong. The entire idea of not having total free will on her life’s direction was an anathema to their logical mind. “What about Godric?”

She received three voices all giving the same answer. “ _When the Dementors are gone!”_

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OoOoO

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_Later in Dumbledore’s Office_

The sound of Dumbledore’s glasses hitting his desk was lost in the almighty bang of his office door slamming shut as Severus Snape, currently still the Potions Professor, stormed off to terrorise students and stew in his anger. The dour man had almost foamed at the mouth at being told he was on his last warning and there was nothing the Great Dumbledore could do. The Headmaster had pointed out that he could protect Snape the person but not Snape the teacher. Not after Lord Slytherin’s masterful silver tongue had everyone willing to fall over backwards for the newest member of the Wizengamot.

“How the hell is there a Slytherin Regent to House Potter?” Minerva McGonagall’s heavy accent almost made her question indecipherable.

The small group knew they were free to speak as Dumbledore had placed highly powerful security wards around his office. The man in question had no idea that Sebastian the Sorting Hat was currently fuming at being unable to tell his creators what was happening.

“Peverell,” Dumbledore sighed, reaching for his half-moon glasses, and slipping them back on as he looked at his disciple and former apprentice. Minerva McGonagall might be middle-aged by witch standards but her slender frame had been through as much as women who had lived more decades. She was a former Auror and secret scout for both the DMLE and Order of the Phoenix during the Blood War, a highly talented Transfiguration Mistress, and a War Widow. The stern woman wore her usual dark green robes over a functional trouser suit and her hair was tied back into its usual tight bun. “This Lord Slytherin opened talks with the Innocenti proxy and reminded me that Peverell is the Father House to both Potter and Slytherin.”

“Then where did he come from?” She pushed, the threat to their plans driving her anger.

“That, I am unsure of,” Dumbledore admitted. “But I promise you, Minerva, there is no Slytherin blood left. The Book of Emrys might not have explained why Salazar left Hogwarts but it details exactly what happened when he took up the name Salestine and became the Dark Lord he always pretended he wasn’t. I have diligently followed every ounce of magical blood he sired and can promise you that it all ended with the Gaunts.”

Those in the room missed Sebastian’s roll of his non-existent eyes at the idiocy of mistaking Salazar for his selfish and evil son.

“What I want to know is how long the snake has been in our midst without us knowing,” Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody demanded form the corner of the room to keep anyone attacking him from behind.

Moody was a respect member of the DMLE from being both a Hit-Wizard and Auror in his long career. His body might be falling apart with him having a peg-leg and magical eye that freaked most people out, but he was still as sharp and as dangerous as he was in his prime. Almost retired, Moody had taken to training his last protegee in Nymphadora Tonks rather than work in the day-to-day business of the DMLE. It was a position that gave him much more flexibility with his time to aid in the destruction of Dark Wizards. He was also a former partner to Minerva’s husband and Dumbledore knew the two Scots had been there for each other after the horrors of the war.

“I can answer that,” answered another member of the group. It was a close call between who was the deadliest between the man and Moody, something the Auror respected and despised in equal measure. Caradoc Dearborn was a man believed dead by friends and family. A heavily built wizard with dark, cruel eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. A former member of the Order of the Phoenix who vanished into the dark underbelly of magical society to forge out a powerful reputation and position for himself. Still, for all his criminal power, Caradoc had never forgotten the man who supported him. “Both Diagon and Knockturn were abuzz over the summer with news of a new Lord shopping. Extravagance would be putting it mildly. The shopping itself wasn’t hidden but for some reason, the name Slytherin never got uttered.”

“Some type of privacy spell then. Sal might be his first name, but the man is obviously not a Slytherin. I’m sure he only took that name as a way of shocking the Wizengamot,” Dumbledore mused, trusting that Dearborn would have brought him the information earlier if there had been even a suspicion of a Founder’s Heir turning up. “The worry is how much contact this Sal Peverell has had with Harry.”

“I would say a lot, Albus,” Remus Lupin offered. The werewolf and Marauder felt that he owed the Headmaster everything, including loyalty that went beyond childhood friendships. “We spoke on the Express and one of the things he did was refer to himself as a Slythendor.”

“A _what_?” McGonagall frowned, not liking the term on sheer principle.

“A Slytherin with Gryffindor tendencies,” Lupin explained to the eager listeners. “He stated that the Hat tried putting him in Slytherin, but he asked for Gryffindor. He also calls young Mister Malfoy a Gryfferin.”

The Head of Gryffindor House turned her nose up in a move that would have made Snape proud and her pupils grew slitted as her Animagus form rose up. “Petulant boy. Far too much like James without an ounce of the talent.”

“I knew about what the Hat wanted, and I spoke to Harry about choices being what defines him,” Dumbledore explained to his latest DADA teacher. “And that description might have been accurate for the past two years, Minerva, but not now. Harry has somehow become the student everyone was expecting. More so when it comes to Potions considering the interesting summer homework he handed in to Severus.”

“Slytherin was always said to be a Potions Master of some degree,” Lupin pointed out, looking between his two bosses. “Harry being in contact with this new Lord over the summer would explain how his grades have suddenly improved, as well as just where he got those two familiars.”

“Yes, the question of the baby basilisk and Miss Lovegood’s runespoor looks to be answered,” Dumbledore nodded at the idea and slowly ran his fingers through his beard. He was about to continue when he caught Lupin’s frown. “Remus?”

“Albus, this seems to almost be like one of the Marauders’ multi-layered pranks. Harry gets trained over the summer, comes back to become the top student in his year, even surpassing Miss Granger despite all I’ve heard of her academic ability, and goes on a single-minded crusade against Severus from day one. And now there is this Lord who calls for his sacking. I can’t see this as a mere coincidence.”

Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at the Marauder in horror, eyes widening as he pointed out the simplicity of the situation. Both would grudgingly admit that they considered the day’s political move as taking advantage of Potter’s actions, not connected with them.

“I don’t like this, Albus,” Minerva hissed, her nostrils flaring from her barely controlled emotions. “That type of planning is dangerous and would require constant communication between the two. Just who in Merlin’s name is this man?”

“That is something we must find out as quickly as possible,” Dumbledore admitted. “Remus, I need you to get closer to Harry. Perhaps offer him some advanced tutoring in Defence? The Patronus wouldn’t be suspicious considering the dementors being here.”

“I’ll try,” Lupin promised, looking doubtful at the task. He looked at his watch and stood as he saw the time. “But I’m not sure how much he’ll let me in unless I reveal I knew Lily and James. He was not amused at how I taught the Boggart class. The scent of his disapproval almost filled the entire room.”

Minerva snorted and gave the man a narrowed look. “Are you not a teacher, man? He’s a third-year student. Put him in his place then butter him up with offer of help. I doubt even with Mister Potter’s recent growth that he’d get anywhere with the Patronus, but it will give you an opening. Use the brain you were gifted with Remus Lupin.”

Remus Lupin nodded in agreement and headed off for his patrol. The group waited until the door closed and then McGonagall turned back to the man she believed in above all others.

“I don’t mean to question you but…”

“I reiterate, he is _not_ a Slytherin,” Dumbledore promised. He knew his Deputy was terrified of more Slytherins being discovered. The entire family were as Dark as they came and a single member could burn everything they had worked for to ash.

“I’m sorry, Albus, it’s just that we’re so close. I couldn’t bare it if, after everything we’ve done, those disgusting bloodlines popped out of the shadows as though they owned the country.”

“I understand, my dear,” he gave her a small smile that showed he was not angry with his second-in-command. “The Danu bloodlines are close to extinction and with them will go the reason why we have Dark Lords. Tom Riddle himself killed off the Hufflepuff line with the murder of Hepzibah Smith.”

“Don’t you have a Smith as a student?” The last remaining member of the group asked.

Elphias Doge was one of Dumbledore’s closest advisors and friends, the two having known each other for over a century, but the Headmaster was still surprised at how the man could silently blend into the background and make you forget he was there. It was one of the reasons why Albus made his good friend the Special Advisor to the Wizengamot.

“Zacharias,” Moody growled, taking a deep swig from his hip flask as though to wash away the taste of the name. “Takes after his nasty, inbred piece of a shit father. Ol’ Hepzi married into the Smith family and was the last of hers. That line is as dead as the Potters.”

“Indeed. Between the Book of Emrys granting me a starting off point and my position as Chief Warlock, I have been able to trace the Dark lines. Once Voldemort returns, I will have Severus nudge him towards seeing young Mister Longbottom as a threat for being a potential Child of Prophecy, thus ending the threat of Gryffindor hurting innocents. The Blacks will be causalities of the war and then Harry and Tom will kill each other, granting our world the peace from that Merlin so desperately sought.

“The worrying thing is that this Sal Peverell could easily be mistaken for a cousin of either Arcturus or Charlus but with Harry’s eyes. We all know that the Book of Emrys stated that the mixing of the two families would create the Darkest enemy to the Greater Good there had ever been.”

“You think that’s this Slytherin?” Moody questioned, his blue eye spinning wildly as it double-checked Dumbledore’s security wards for the thirtieth time.

“No, the fact that Harry Potter is a Child of Prophecy and a mix of Potter and Black blood is too coincidental,” Dumbledore answered with authority. “My concern is that this Sal Peverell will look to aid Harry in becoming a Dark Lord before we can get him to fulfil the prophecy.”

“I still don’t understand why you don’t release the information,” Dodge said, causing Dumbledore to sigh at the decades-long debate between them. “Let some within the Ministry read parts of Merlin’s books so they can understand.”

“We both know why, Elphias. There is no proof beyond the Tomes themselves that the families never gave their magic to create the Council. And who would believe that a Founder not named Slytherin was a secret Dark Lord who looked to manipulate their children into being blind followers? No, the Order of the Phoenix has tried to save and serve the Greater Good of our people from the shadows and we will win from the shadows. That Harry is prophesied to die defeating Voldemort as his equal proves he has the capacity to be the greatest Dark Lord we’ve ever faced. Now, enough of that. What of this Sal’s Lordship? Why did we not hear of this before this morning?”

Dodge stretched his legs out and put his palms together to lightly tap his bottom lip, the sharp legal mind working through all the angles even though he already knew the answer.

“I suspect Unspeakable involvement,” he began, drawing eyebrows being raised. “Everything is perfectly legitimate and all the parchment work appearing to have been filed and processed in time to be on today’s docket. Yet no one even knew who this man was when he arrived or even that we had a new Lord to be sworn in. There’s no legal way to undermine his position as Lord of two Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses nor the Potter Regent considering Peverell is a Great House. You would have to get Mister Potter himself to declare a new proxy for that to be changed.”

“Not a valid avenue just yet. I want to keep Harry away from public politics even if this man is having him involved from behind the scenes.”

Dodge nodded in agreement. The young Potter was too much of a wild card, especially considering all he had heard of the current school year.

“Then we would be best to erode any support,” he suggested, and received nods of understanding at where he was going. “The Dark Families can be easily rallied against anything he says for the simple reason he isn’t You-Know-Who. You won’t even need to be subtle with the Light considering this man identifies himself as Slytherin. I believe between the two of us, we could affect enough of the Greys to make it that not even his large number of votes could negatively impact any of our plans going forward. Today was a victory for him simple due to the shock and awe factor.”

“So, he’ll be a toothless sideshow?” Dearborn asked, gaining a nod in return.

“Yes. At least politically.”

“And no doubt Fudge will be using the Prophet to discredit him,” McGonagall added with a dismissive sniff. She had never been a fan of the boy who grew up into a snivelling Minister.

The five felt their worries ease away as they realised they had a plan to counter the new threat in the game they had been playing for decades. Dumbledore had one final order before he broke up the meeting.

“Caradoc, Alastor, we need to find out where he is as soon as possible. No one would bat an eye if this new Lord Slytherin met an untimely end, as tragic as it might be. Between the two of you, you shouldn’t have too many problems in hunting him down.”

The man in law enforcement and the man who possessed a small criminal empire nodded their heads. The would be shocked and horrified to know the very man they were talking about had just repledged House Slytherin’s allegiance to the throne and was sitting down with the Queen.

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OoOoO


	9. Silver-Tongued Snakes and Poisoned Pens

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

 

Silver-Tongued Snakes and Poisoned Pens

 

_22 nd September 1993 – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

The student body of Hogwarts had no idea that the morning would bring with it the first crack of the avalanche that would ultimately destroy their understanding of the British Magical World. It was eight in the morning, the students were eating breakfast while being watched over by the teachers, and a paradigm shift was being brought to Hogwarts on feathered wings.

Harry Potter ran his gaze along the High Table as he let the usual noise of breakfast wash over him. There was a slight strain around Dumbledore’s twinkling orbs but that was all the old man showed. There was an added tightness to Professor McGonagall’s lips and Harry caught her glancing at the ceiling windows. Severus Snape looked as though he was considering flinging Avadas around the room in his obvious fury and, once again, Salazar was confused how such a man could know Occlumency and Legilimency yet be so emotionally explosive. The rest of the staff appeared as much in the dark as the students and Harry turned to his healthy breakfast while his friends talked around him.

Luna was busy making Neville smile while there was no obvious sign of Helga in anything Hermine said or did. Harry marvelled at how easy it appeared she had integrated her past life. The fluttering of wings caught everyone’s attention and hundred of eyes raised to watch the delivery owls descending. Harry noticed he had more than a _Daily Prophet_ and _Quibbler_ heading his way and blinked at the additional mail. A dark eyebrow raised when he spotted an envelope only used by Gringotts.

The usual chatter of conversations died immediately as people saw the front page of the _Prophet_. Harry barely kept himself from sending his two girls a smirk as he checked out the Ministry’s mouthpiece.

 

 

 

**New and Deadly Lord Slytherin Appears!**

**Dares Minister to Arrest Him, Decries Hogwarts Education.**

**What link is there between Slytherin and Boy-Who-Lived?**

 

_By A. Fenetre_

_This year’s second Equinox Wizengamot meeting started off with a bang and continued to burn! Things kicked off even before the often-venerated Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore could open the meeting with the sudden appearance of a man unlike any other. An obvious Lord of high breeding, the man had his midnight hair tied into an old Lord’s braid, green eyes that suffered no fools, and wore a dragonhide coat of excellent cut (see picture below)._

_The confrontations began immediately with the stranger challenging Albus Dumbledore to open the Wizengamot meeting before he would even reveal his name. Readers, the powerful Pureblood was so confident in his place among the highest in our society that he even challenged Minister Fudge to have him arrested “on a whim.”_

_As expected by all who know of the formidable woman, Amelia Bones (Regent to Most Ancient House of Bones and current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement) refused the dare and pushed the meeting open. As like with the shambles that is the search for the fugitive Sirius Black, both Minister Fudge and Albus Dumbledore were all talk and no action. The session was opened, and we were then introduced to our latest Lord. Sal Slytherin, Head of the Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Slytherin and Peverell, as well as being Regent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter._

_A Lord Slytherin and Lord Peverell walk amongst us once more and this time they are one and the same! A Pureblood Lord of obvious breeding that has somehow gained access to our beloved Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter right under the very crooked nose of Headmaster Dumbledore! (see page 4 for a full list of the extremely busy Dumbledore’s titles and achievements)._

_With the last person to claim relationship to the green House of Hogwarts being You-Know-Who and the new Lord Sal Slytherin being Regent Potter, just what is the web of politics and the Great Game that our saviour has been caught up in and who is to blame? (For full details of the history of the Boy-Who-Lived see pages 2,3,5,7)_

_The biggest shock was still to come! As a newly integrated Lord to the Wizengamot, Lord Slytherin was given the floor to raise any issues they may see in our great society. To the shock of everyone, Lord Slytherin proved himself to be following in his ancestor’s footsteps by bringing up a plague that has been slowly poisoning our society ever since that fateful Halloween; that being the Terror of Teaching, the Caustic Master of Cauldrons, Professor Severus Snape (See page 4: Snape – Youngest Ever Potion’s Master, Dumbledore’s Man, and Social Assassin!)_

_Lord Slytherin’s silver tongue almost brought the session to tears at how close our nation is to falling at the secret machinations of a man most post-Hogwarts students declare unfit to teach. It was only with Supreme Mugwump Dumbledore speaking up for the so-called ‘Professor’ that allowed him to keep his position. For now. The School Board has declared that the tiniest infraction will end Snape’s reign of terror and Lord Slytherin graciously accepted the role of Potions Professor until a more permanent teacher could be found._

_This was not the last of Lord Slytherin’s single-handed drive to heal our social wounds. When the great Minister Fudge (O.M. First Class holder, awarded by Minister Fudge) attempted to raise taxes for the continuing failure to find escapee and You-Know-Who’s right-hand man Sirius Black, Lord Slytherin once again stepped into the limelight to point out that the ruination of the people tasked with keeping insane criminals like Black and his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange locked up could be laid at the feet of Minister Fudge (for more on Black and Lestrange see page 8: In-depth Look at the End of the Blood War)._

_Lord Slytherin stood up and continued his rebuilding of our world, swaying the Wizengamot to abandon Minister Fudge’s path and onto one of boosting our Auror Forces until Snape’s replacement can come in and fix the travesty that is the Hogwarts education. A motion quickly followed that was easily passed when backed by the powerful voting bloc of Lord Slytherin (See page 11 for a breakdown of Wizengamot Voting and Lord Slytherin’s tally)._

_We here at the Prophet praise Lord Slytherin’s desire to improve our country’s greatness and look forward to seeing what else he has planned. Questions continue to be raised for Albus Dumbledore to answer over Harry Potter’s link to Lord Slytherin, the horrible deaths of his Muggle relatives, and where the Boy-Who-Lived will stay from now on. Why is there a Ministerial Order keeping families away from adopting our nation’s hero? Is Dumbledore’s obsessive control over heir Potter the reason why Lord Slytherin has stepped forward? Why is Severus Snape more important to the Chief Warlock than Healers and Potioneers devoted to improving our lives?_

_These questions and more go unanswered by Albus Dumbledore while Minister Fudge issued a statement saying an investigation over Lord Slytherin’s identity and claim to the Lordship is ongoing (see page 9 for Fudge’s statement and full transcript of events)._

Harry whistled at the tone of the front-page piece and quickly handed it over to Hermione who had been reading it with him. She hungrily attacked the parchment to seek out all the inner parts of the report. He reached for the Gringotts letter and wondered why the article wasn’t more in favour of the Ministry when his sister spoke up.

“I’ve always enjoyed Abednego’s company,” Luna commented in her dreamy voice, answering his silent question. “He and father play poker every twelfth Thursday, second Sunday, and all Monday’s apart from the last.”

Harry snorted at the information, his good mood rising at the report from King Ragnuk. It was written in old Garak-da-Ruc telling him that the vault searches had been completed and they had found Helga’s chalice inside the Lestrange vault. All dark protections in the cup had been destroyed, a prisoner was granted the pleasure of the soul shard’s possession and then thrown into the lava pits to purify the man. The object was cleaned, cleansed, and waiting for pickup. Harry blinked as he realised they had not yet told Helga about Riddle’s Horcruxes.

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud mutterings coming further down the table as Ron looked to impress upon Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan how Lord Slytherin being Potter Regent just showed how Harry was really a dirty snake to begin with. While Sal easily ignored the comments, it was the second loudmouth of Hogwarts who caught his ire.

“Just you wait, Potter,” Draco Malfoy drawled as though whatever victory he was dreaming of had already come true. “Once Lord Slytherin reaches out to my father, your House is going to be worth less than it is now. You’ll be nothing more than a Blood Traitor wallowing in the Mud.”

The hall once more descended into silence and Harry glanced at the teachers, not surprised at all that they weren’t about to do anything. Snape looked like he was cheering the little shit on and wanted to offer aid in insults. Harry sighed when he glanced up and down the table that belonged to him and realised how much work he had to do. The watching Helga saw the moment Harry made his decision and took up the weight of a responsibility that only he could carry.

“Slytherins, I’m actually begging here. Please tell me the blond trumpet isn’t as stupid behind closed doors as he is in public.”

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Daphne Greengrass stared down at her father’s letter and then back to her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that was now being dissected by Tracey Davis. She had seen the influential children of neutral Houses as well as those once belonging to the Potter-Black Alliance receiving their own letters and she would bet her year’s allowance that they were mostly along the same lines.

Do not cross Harry Potter.

Her letter had been written in part code, some words hidden behind a charm that only worked with Greengrass magic, and even then, there was an infuriating amount that went unsaid, but Daphne had been given enough to know what her Father thought. There was now a third side to their society and it was as powerful, if not more so, than either of the other two. One line stood out from the letter she folded and was putting into a hidden pocket of her robes, one line that chilled Daphne’s spine at its implications.

_“Go against Slytherin House, go against Dumbledore, go against Hogwarts itself, but do not go against Harry Potter.”_

Daphne had opened lines of communication between the Gryffindor student and her Father. She knew that Harry had still been in Hogwarts when the proposed meeting took place, yet her Father’s letter after the meeting explained a situation that could only have come about from speaking with the Potter heir or someone incredibly close to him. Her blue eyes flicked to the _Daily Prophet_ and she immediately knew it was the Lord Slytherin who had met with House Greengrass. The Slytherin girl couldn’t help wondering why her family had been approached before the Wizengamot session. The report had specifically said it was the Slytherin voting bloc that passed the new Auror Bill, not the power of the remnants of the Potter-Black Alliance.

Her blue eyes shifted down the Slytherin table and knew that yesterday’s session was only the tip of the cauldron. Daphne’s one hope was her Father knew what he was doing, and it would aid, or at the very least not bring harm, her younger sister. Her musing was broken by Malfoy’s proclamation and Potter’s retort. Despite being a known Neutral, she was about to answer the Gryffindor’s question when someone else got there before her.

“He is, heir Potter,” Blaise Zabini called out, causing many Slytherins to glare at the dark-skinned Italian. Her surprise faded as she remembered the boy had been quiet since mid-afternoon the previous day, easily enough time for someone to communicate with him in some other way after the Wizengamot session had finished.

No one failed to hear Potter’s deep, frustrated moan at the answer and that his forehead trice met the Gryffindor table.

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“Hades’ saggy left nut, Malfoy, do you not know _anything_ about your family’s history?” Harry snapped, completely ignoring the complaints coming from his forehead at him headbutting the table. The blond peacock was about to answer when Harry beat him to it. “No, don’t. Don’t embarrass yourself more than already have.”

Sal stood, fingertips pressed down on the table, and people began to realise he had been growing and filling out faster than any other boy in his year. His body wasn’t intimidating but the firm frame and way he carried himself was setting several hearts fluttering. That he had forgone his glasses the moment he knew Helga had Awoken only added to the change in how he was being looked at.

“Draco Malfoy of the Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy, you are shaming your ancestors with your ignorant and bigoted comments,” Draco seemed to pale and blush at the insult, yet Harry continued to verbally roll over him. “Contrary to popular opinion, your family’s name does not come from Bad Faith but rather is one of those things that happens across language changes. Just ask House Longbottom.”

The quick smile at Neville showed that Harry’s words weren’t meant to be mean and the boy nodded back his understanding. The cool Avada eyes jumped to Draco and narrowed, displeasure burning in their narrow slits.

“Armand Malfoy arrived on these shores alongside House Longbottom and a secondary branch of House Peverell when this school was still in her infancy. Lord Malfoy would then become the magical go-between for the William I and our society. He was a man of honour, if not exactly Light, and the same could be said about Abraxas Malfoy, your grandfather and one of _my_ grandfather’s best friends. Our Families have help guide this country _together_ for centuries you stuck-up, self-important ignoramus. Houses Peverell, Slytherin, _and_ Potter were the only way those coming from the mainland got settled in this country without suspicion during the Viking raids. The fact that House Malfoy openly sides against Potters and Longbottoms spits on everything your family stands for. So, the next time your father ‘hears about this’ tell him that debts are going to be called in and you’d better hope not to be in the red when the dust settles.”

Harry sent a scathing look at the teacher’s table and sat with a finality, immediately going back to his breakfast as though nothing had happened. The shell-shocked Hogwarts populous took a while to recover after seeing the Gryffindor Golden Boy not only cut the legs out from beneath his Slytherin rival, but also pulling the rug on many other plots among the students. They all had the same dreaded fear; what hidden ties to Potter and his allies did their families have and what would it mean if those relationships were called to question?

It is the nature of Nature that a vacuum is never one for too long. This is never more evident than in social situations when silence has been commanded by a surprising, shocking, or terrifying revelation. It took less than three minutes before the Great Hall was in chaos and those with fearing their ties to the Potter name raced out of the room to find out what they needed to do, those who had warnings not to cross the Potter Scion now understood exactly why, and those without a hand in either situation simply added the entire event to their gossiping along with the _Prophet’s_ articles.

The Founding quartet went back to their breakfast as though nothing had happened. Harry found himself reading a letter from Valerius breaking down the current vampire situations of the world in easy to digest terms and a promise that despite the Watcher’s Council being children-killing bastards, they were still too scared of the Wizarding World to interfere if Sal was able to grant vampires the equal rights Valerius knew his rebirthed friend was planning.

“Harry?” Neville’s voice was strained, pulling Harry away from the last envelope he had yet to open. The other two eyed their boys in suspicion, knowing from long experience the mischief they could get themselves into when no one was around to corral them.

“Hmm?”

“You wouldn’t know why I got letters from both Gran and Uncle Algie, would you?” The Longbottom heir’s voice was almost a squeak and Harry quickly tore into his last letter as though not having a clue what his brother was going on about. Sal’s eyebrows rose as he quickly realised who the half-Ancient Norse, half-Latin missive was from and what it contained. Apparently both Unspeakables had taken his words to heart. “Multi-page letters almost begging me for forgiveness over how they treated me growing up and their excuses/reasons why they were desperate for me to show magic.”

Harry turned back to his friend with an innocent look that normally fooled everyone. Meaning it fooled none he called friends. He didn’t look away from his brother’s watery eyes even as he passed the letter containing the Unspeakables in-depth and detailed medical report of Frank and Alice Longbottom over to Luna. He had only needed to get through half the report before recognising why Neville’s parents hadn’t woken up.

“Not a clue mate,” he blatantly lied through his teeth. “Maybe they’ve seen the light?”

“Sure, Harry,” Neville answered, his voice dropping low as he turned his attention back to the letters in question. He didn’t notice Luna passing Sal’s to Hermione. “Thank you.”

Luna’s gratitude was causing her face to shine although it had not yet reached her beautiful eyes. He waited until Helga had finished reading and looked up at him, the same question coming at him from both silent girls. Sal simply nodded once and took the letter back, making sure to hide it and the others.

He knew how to wake the Longbottoms up.

“Harry,” Hermione said, the girl suddenly realising there was something she had forgotten to ask. “You forgot to tell us what Liz said.”

He snorted at calling the Queen ‘Liz,’ but no one would ever link the name and the woman if they overheard the conversation. “She says we’re a go and will only step in if we’re in trouble.”

Hermione nodded and returned to her breakfast. It was the answer she expected knowing just how earth shattering it would be for the British government to reclaim its Magical community.

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_25 th September 1993_

Sebastian was a seething Sorting Hat. His stitching almost flying apart at the rage that his felt body was struggling to hold. He might have been labelled Godric’s Hat, but he always saw himself more the child of Salazar. It was Salazar’s ability with the Mind Arts and Soul Gazing that allowed Sebastian to properly sort students based on their current and future potential. It was Sal’s dark humour and stubbornness that had allowed him to fight against people wanting to be where they shouldn’t go. And now Sebastian was sitting on the shelf, utterly helpless against the security wards Dumbledore had taken to using whenever he met with his people. The current Headmaster was paranoid – rightfully so – at the power and connection Sal Slytherin could have with Hogwarts but it meant Sebastian was unable to even tell Sal there was something he couldn’t tell him!

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall were sipping their teas. It was a Saturday and that meant both had the leeway to vanish from student access without arousing suspicion. It was also their first private get together since Harry Potter’s shakeup had revealed just how badly Dumbledore had allowed Snape to damage the Potions education.

“Do I need to apologise again?” he sighed again when her glaring refused to ease.

“It isn’t that I want your apology, Albus, it’s that I am one-hundred percent positive you would do the very same thing again if the opportunity arises.”

He didn’t dare answer. They both knew he would and lying would only strain their relationship.

“Albus,” she sighed, putting cup on saucer and then both on his desk. “I have never disagreed with you in having Severus as our double spy. That _he_ came to _you_ only made the entire thing that much better. That he is an utter bastard and attempts to manipulate the points system is unimportant to me. A half-quality Quidditch team and some points thrown to my NEWT students could easily have won me the House Cup if I had had the first. But you, a Potions Master as well as an Alchemist, allowed him to almost bring such a valued and important subject to its knees.”

“I truly did not know the depths Severus had fallen in his corruption of the topic. I thought it would be, at worst, a mix between Binns and Sybil.”

“Forced book learning and innate skill?” Dumbledore nodded, focusing on his own tea and he heard her sigh again. This one he recognised as not so much frustration but acceptance of the situation. “At least I have publicly and privately sided with Mister Potter against Severus. And aided Miss Granger.”

This time Dumbledore winced at the jab. He really should have told his Deputy that he was setting the smart girl up for a mental breakdown to keep her away from Harry. “Do you think it’s enough to sway him?”

“Before this year? Almost certainly. Now? Perhaps it gets me in the door,” she frowned, staring off into the distance as her sharp mind yet again looked over the situation. “It cost me nothing to side against Severus. I don’t understand why you lost your temper over the Malfoy boy’s situation so that too was an easy aid to Mister Potter. He’s a Death Eater’s son and a Black, there is no redemption for either of those and even Potter seems to know that.”

“Now, Minerva.”

“Don’t, Albus. I know you have your image to maintain but I fear you lose sight of the children with your focus on the bigger picture. I’m just grateful you knew that charm to force the basilisk’s gaze into only causing petrification.”

“Something I made sure to find after Tom’s killing of Miss Warren,” he told her, putting the empty cup on the table so the two could continue talking. “And it is why I made you Deputy. I know my faults and weaknesses, Minerva, and I need you to make sure I don’t lose sight of the innocent lives we are doing this for.”

She nodded at his words, knowing she had pulled him back from overreaching many times in their decades of working together. The innocent children needed protection from the monsters who waited for them outside of Hogwarts as well as those who walked among them. The enemies of Merlin were a threat to every pure child who entered the school. Young Malfoy’s attitude was a perfect example of his Black blood running free.

“Have you worked out who will replace Severus when he makes his next mistake?”

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore’s smile warmed McGonagall’s soul. It meant he had plans. “Horace has agreed to come back. I merely had to send him some of Harry’s work from this year and he couldn’t agree quick enough. Alas, he is unable to walk away from his commitments outside the country until the new year.”

“And before then? I highly doubt Severus will keep himself under control until Halloween, let along January. Will you be taking his place?”

Dumbledore didn’t reply and suddenly Minerva didn’t like the smirk he was sending her way. Her eyes widened in horror. “Albus, no! Tell me you aren’t thinking of letting _Slytherin_ into the castle!”

Her vocal chords almost shifted to that of her Animagus form from the venomous spit used in saying the Founder’s name.

“We know nothing about him. He has come from nowhere and no one can find him,” Dumbledore admitted with heavy frustration. “Horace’s contract is already signed so Peverell can’t keep the post beyond the new year.”

“And him being around the children? Near the school’s wards? Albus, this could be a disaster!”

“It is a gambit, I agree,” and his tone made it obvious it wasn’t one he was happy with. “But I have the wards locked up tight. Hogwarts calling you to the meeting when Harry uncovered Severus’ machinations gives me belief that the school will let you aid me if he attempts to gain control.”

Sebastian silently snarled at that guess. Cassie knew the Headmaster was a twisted piece of work because the position required him to be linked to her on a constant basis. If the school knew the depth of the Gryffindor Head of House’s loyalty to Dumbledore, it would never reach out to her again. Unfortunately, Cassie wouldn’t know unless McGonagall stepped into the role of Headmistress and Dumbledore’s security spells were somehow keeping Sebastian from even being able to warn Cassie of the woman’s true nature.

“Why?” She demanded, the two completely unaware of what their talk was doing to the Sorting Hat. “After making sure _he_ never got into the school, why are you allowing this one access?”

“This man wasted a valuable political tool to attack Severus. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I understand and agree with the uproar over how badly Severus had weakened our society. But this Sal Peverell used his introduction to do so when he easily could have gone to the _Prophet_ and got the same result, albeit slightly delayed.”

“He actually _cares_ about Hogwarts?” The disbelief evident in McGonagall’s voice. “A Slytherin actually caring about this school after everything his ancestor did?”

“Repentance, perhaps, or a smokescreen,” Dumbledore shrugged as though it didn’t matter which. “Regardless, this man has claimed such a position in front of the entire Wizengamot. When Severus crosses the line and he takes over, then either he must show himself to be as good as he professes or reveals himself to be a fraud.”

“And the children either get taught Potions until Horace arrives, or his failure reaches the ears of their parents and his political power crumbles.”

“Exactly, my dear,” Albus beamed, delighted his second followed his thinking so easily. “And if the second should occur, it just might turn some of the children away from Tom when he returns. After all, one Slytherin is very much another.”

Minerva sat back and considered the plan. She was still unsure about having such a man near the children but could see the benefit of what her mentor was thinking. Especially if protections were in place to stop the man from hurting or influence the young ones.

“I agree on principle,” she announced after a few minutes. “But we will need to work on contingency plans in case the worst should happen. Now, what about Sirius Black?”

“Nowhere to be find,” Dumbledore snarled, the dark frustrated expression would have shocked anyone who didn’t know the man behind the twinkle. “Not even with Remus searching for him.”

McGonagall frowned at the name of the newest DADA professor. “Mister Potter’s recent attitude change might make it difficult for Lupin to get close to the boy. I doubt he’ll be happy that a friend of his parents had been absent from his life for so long.”

“Ah, and therein lies the beauty of his aggression towards me,” Dumbledore chuckled. “I told Remus to blame me as I highly doubt young Harry can feel any more ill will towards me.”

“Allowing the two to bond over their annoyances with you. Clever, Albus. Very clever.”

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The cause of much of Dumbledore and McGonagall’s stress spent that evening in the library as he had been doing since his talk with the non-Gryffindor first years. Much to his amusement, there always seemed to be watching older Hufflepuffs and Slytherins during his open sessions. Diggory and Greengrass being the more persistent faces watching over their younger Housemates. Harry had been less impressed by the lack of watchful Ravenclaws.

One of the little birdies appeared in all her adorable might. She had gathered a few friendly Hufflepuffs and even two Slytherins were standing at the end of the table waiting for Harry to finish writing.

As usual, Harry was surrounded by all manner of books and parchment, switching easily between homework, political and social research, catching himself up on new spells and inventions over the past thousand years as well as all his personal side projects. That everything he wrote down was in Parsel shorthand meant he had no worries on someone reading over his shoulder to learn his secrets. He finished his current sentence with a squiggly flourish and looked up at the expecting children.

“Now, what can I do for all of you this evening?” He asked, smiling brightly to ease any worries the little ones might have. They were still learning that they could come to him for anything, but it was, as to be expected, a slow process.

“You see, Mister Harry,” the adorable Raven began, obvious the group’s spokesperson. “We were wondering if you could teach us about the Houses.”

“Ah,” he nodded, instantly working out the issue. While he wasn’t completely sure, he could guess there wasn’t an influential Pureblood family in the gaggle of preteens. A lazy swish of his holly wand had all the papers and books organising themselves into two neat piles. “Why don’t you all take a seat. Ophelia, I assume this is because of the _Prophet_ articles on the Wizengamot meeting?”

Little Ophelia nodded her head fast enough that it looked like her pigtails were trying to gain flight and Harry was immediately reminded of Dobby. The students quickly sat and got writing materials ready as he conjured a large piece of parchment to use in the table’s centre.

“First, I want to explain that there are some numbers in the magical world that are very, very important,” he told them, quickly slipping into the role of professor. The quill moved easily across the parchment as he wrote upside for the eager listeners. “The most important numbers are two, three, five, seven, eleven, twelve, and thirteen. Any important numbers higher than thirteen can be broken down into a combination of these seven numbers. The most important and powerful are three and seven and, when combined together, make twenty-one, the date the Wizengamot session took place.”

“Are all Wiz’gamot sessions on the twenty-first?” One of the Hufflepuffs asked. The first thing Harry had told any of those coming to him was that questions weren’t just allowed, they were expected.

“Wiz _en_ gamot, Jeremy, and no, not all of them. The four most important ones are, and four is two-twos for those keeping score. These are the two Equinoxes in March and September, and the two Solstices in June and December. These four are _always_ held on the twenty-first no matter what day that falls on nor what else is happening in the country at the time. Everyone who is above a certain rank must show up to them and they are also when new Lords and Ladies are introduced to the others.”

“Like Lord Slytherin,” Ophelia chirped up and Harry smiled at the girl.

“Exactly. It would have been extremely bad form and manners if Lord Slytherin had not revealed himself on Tuesday.”

“But no one knew he existed,” Jeremy frowned and got one of Sal’s ‘well done’ smirks in return. “So, no one would know if he didn’t.”

“Exactly. Which tells us what?”

Sal waited for them to come to the answer and it was one of the Slytherins who got there first. “That he respects the Old Ways. He could have stayed hidden and no one would know he was disrespecting the tradition, but he didn’t. At least, from what we know.”

“That’s right, Titus. As far as we know, Lord Slytherin did indeed announce himself to the Wizengamot the earliest tradition says he should have. But remember, this is only as far as we know, not what we can prove.”

“But you know for sure, don’t you, Mister Harry?”

“I do, Ophelia. I know for sure that Sal Slytherin took on the ring after June’s solstice session. But that doesn’t mean you, any of you, can’t question it. Always remember there are three sides to truth; yours, theirs, and the unbiased one.”

Young faces nodded with determined looks on their faces, the Slytherins were impressed that _Harry Potter_ was teaching them the ways of Slytherin.

“Now, the reason I brought up these numbers is because the House system is very much steeped in using them as a measuring stick,” he told the group, getting back to their initial query. “We’ll start at the beginning. A House is the name of a magical family, small f. All first-generation magicals belong to a House, their own. Unless the Creevey brothers are closely related to an existing family, they are considered a new House, the House of Creevey. No matter what you might hear, a new Magical House is something to be celebrated. It means magic has touched someone new and with that touch they can bring new wonders into our society.

“But,” Harry stopped, raising a hand to stop any interruptions. His students didn’t so much as twitch until he continued. “That is a discussion for another day as it touches on Blood Purity and is not what we’re here to discuss. I have said my opinion on it and will allow each of you to form your own. Understand.”

Nods were given by all. They understood the issue with Blood Purity was a major part of the Wizarding World and once again Harry proved himself above many of their peers by letting them decide rather than telling them what they should believe.

“Using House Creevey as a continuing example, they will become a Minor House if they hold the Creevey name for six centuries or seven generations, whichever comes first. This is called being unbroken and is considered extremely important by our society. At this time, they might gain a seat on the Wizengamot if they are nominated by another House and a second House seconds the nomination. If they aren’t nominated then they are still Minor Houses and can go to the Wizengamot, they just aren’t allowed any voting rights until that part is done.”

Harry tapped his quill against the written-out numbers when he said how long it would take the Creevey boys to become a Minor House; twice on the number three and once on the number seven. Some of the first years looked like they were ahead of the curve and were guessing where he was going with the talk.

“Now there are some things called Noble Houses. These are Houses were one or more of the people of that House have done something worthwhile to the Wizarding community. It could be that they discovered a cure for a terrible disease or saved an entire village from a rampaging dragon. Whatever it was, was above and beyond what is expected of being a normal citizen. What this means is that people in the government doing big things aren’t allowed to become Noble through their political actions although it can still happen if the action itself was such an event their position is overlooked.”

He could see a little confusion in his students and gave them a reassuring smile. “An example of this is the Noble House of Nuttley. Orabella Nuttley worked for the Improper Use of Magic office but she managed to keep the Statue of Secrecy safe using a spell of her own design. So, while she worked for the government, what she did for all of us was so far out of her normal job that her position in the Ministry could be ignored.”

Faces lit up as understanding spread and Harry waited for everyone to nod they understood before continuing.

“Someone gaining an Order of Merlin, First Class, is also usually enough to gain their House Noble status. Now, being a Noble House also grants the House a seat on the Wizengamot and this is where we get into the voting system. A Minor House only has one vote while Noble House has three. That means it would take four Minor Houses to outvote a Noble House. Can any of you tell me why it is this way?”

Unsurprisingly, it was the other Slytherin who got the answer first. “Because they’ve made a bigger impact on society that a House that’s just been around for ages?”

“Exactly, Gertrude,” Harry looked at all of them and they recognised the seriousness in his expression. “Make no mistakes, boys and girls, your impact on our world is ultimately what matters in the end. That is why some Houses are seen as more ‘important’ than others. They’ve influenced and guided our world for many, many years. Whether you agree with the direction that guiding takes is down to you. Now, there are another group of Houses who also possess three votes, do any of you know what that group are called?”

“Ancient Houses, sir,” one of the Hufflepuffs quickly answered, getting another proud nod.

“Exactly, Ancient Houses who have been around in an unbroken line for nine hundred years. As you can see, Houses are now broken up into two main groupings; how long they’ve been around without losing the family name, and their impact on our world.”

“They can be mixed, can’t they, Mister Harry?” Ophelia asked, her button nose scrunching as she tried to remember the _Prophet’s_ article.

“That’s right, they can. Those are called Noble and Ancient Houses and have six votes each, three for being Noble, three for being Ancient. This is usually the highest level a newer family can think of rising in our society and is the start of those who must always be at the four important Wizengamot sessions.

“Now, here’s were things get a big murky so make sure you’re taking notes,” he warned them. “You now get to the prefix Most added to either title and that means the family either did something very, very, _very_ important to become Most Noble, or they’ve been around a long, long time to become Most Ancient. Exactly how long is a little vague. The current window is known as the nine-hundred-and-three rule; meaning our House Creevey would need to be around for anywhere between 1,200 and 2,700 years.”

The kids whistled, and it was Ophelia who once again spoke up. “That’s a big gap, Mister Harry.”

“It is and here’s why. With both Minor and Ancient Houses, we’ve talked about an unbroken line from start to finish, but it gets difficult as time goes on to keep that name going. One of the big reasons is that a family dies off to leave one or two members and then either one member or a girl who might have to take her husband’s name. That’s what has happened to the Potters.

“So, to give Ancient Houses a chance to become Most Ancient, they are given three chances where the family’s new name carries on their legacy. This is called a broken line. If House Creevey reaches 1,200 years unbroken then they may petition to become Most Ancient. If they have to become House Jones because no males were born then both names must get to 1,500 years, a second name change and that jumps up to 1,800 years, and a third jumps to 2,700 years.”

“Why such a big jump?” Jeremy asked, and the others nodded in wanting to know the answer.

“Because the people making the rules felt that if a House can’t go another nine centuries without being broken three times then they aren’t trying. There are quite a few ways to keep a family name going, guys, and losing that name in less than six hundred years when it’s been going for over a thousand is a poor reflection on how the family members honour their House.”

He could that they all understood even if they didn’t agree with the reasoning but that was fine with Sal.

“The Most Ancient Houses are extremely important to our society,” he continued the lecture after they settled back down. “They never lose their Wizengamot seats even if they disappear as the argument is that such a House will always find its way back to us. They are influence and have five votes in the Wizengamot. The next of the list is the rarest and also possess five votes; the Most Noble Houses.”

“But how can you change society more than it takes to become Noble?” One of the Slytherins asked and the Hufflepuffs all grumbled their confused agreement. Harry merely smiled.

“And that is why it is one of the rarest. I’ll name four Houses who have been given the Most Noble title and explain why they got it. This way you’ll see what type of impact is needed to become Most Noble,” they eagerly waited even though he was sure some had already guessed. “Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin. Four Houses who created the very first school for the entire country and whose influence on our society is still being felt today. Guys and girls, _that’s_ what it takes to become Most Noble. The removal of your impact on our society would fundamentally change everything beyond anyone’s understanding.”

Harry hid a chuckle at the determined look on some of the first-year’s faces as they decided that _they_ would become Most Noble.

“A Noble and Ancient has six votes, a Most Noble and Ancient or Noble and Most Ancient House has eight votes,” again he pointed to the numbers to aid those wondering where the numbers came from. “And the very small group of Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses have ten votes.”

“But, Lord Slytherin had more than ten votes,” Jeremy pointed out and the others nodded.

“That’s right. But that is because Lord Slytherin has the voting rights of more than one House. He’s Lord to the Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Slytherin and Peverell, giving him ten votes each, and I’ve made him Regent to my own Noble and Most Ancient House to give him another eight votes.”

The more political savvy first-years whistled as they realised the power the new Lord wielded when it came to votes. Sal hadn’t worked the numbers out, but he was pretty sure he and the other Founders had almost a hundred votes between their respective Houses from both lives and that was without any alliances. The Wizengamot had no idea how screwed they were once the other three took up their rings.

The lesson broke up not long after that with Harry only needed to go into more details for the curiously minded of the group. The first-years had barely left the library before Daphne Greengrass was sitting opposite him with her pale eyes blazing with curiosity and confusion.

“Miss Greengrass,” Sal nodded at the girl, not even bother to keep the smirk from tweaking his lips. He knew his change in personality and actions had completely thrown the girl.

“You’re an enigma, Potter,” she snapped, as though the very concept of not being able to work him out was insulting her intelligence. “But you are doing wonders for the school and the younger Slytherins actually trust you to hear them out.”

“That’s because I’m a Slytherin, Miss Greengrass,” giving the girl far more than she realised with his words. “I talked the Hat out of putting me in green after meeting Malfoy. It was most upset it couldn’t place me where I belonged.”

Sal was silently laughing as he left the library, leaving an utterly gobsmacked Daphne behind. He _loved_ causing chaos.

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OoOoO

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_29 th September 1993_

“Mister Potter, a word,” Filius Flitwick called out as his Gryffindor-Ravenclaw double Charms class headed off to lunch. There was a sharpness to the usually jovial teacher’s tone that caught Hermione’s attention, but Harry merely nodded her and Neville out.

“Yes, sir?” he asked casually once they were alone.

Flitwick threw up some impressive security wards and leaned forward to rest his arms on the desk, wand still out if slightly pointed away from Harry. Sal eyed the position, the half-goblin’s posture, and readied himself for a potential attack. “You are _not_ Mister Potter. At least not the Mister Potter I taught the past two years.”

Sal blinked at the Charms Professor and then gave the man a smile that was all teeth. **_“Perhaps not, Charms Master Firestone, but I am still considered Harry James Potter.”_**

The first growl of Garak-da-Ruc almost had Filius fall of his chair. That the boy knew his true goblin name had the Duelling Master almost dropping his wand. Harry could easily have drawn his own and cast the Killing Curse before Filius Flitwick was able to pull himself together.

“Who…who _are_ you?”

“Come, Professor, surely you can guess? You’ve seen my familiar, you know my skills. Your Clan are the High Warriors and Guardians of the Nation, protectors of King and Kin. My brother and I fought side-by-side with Clan Firestone as they protected Prince Ragnuk and pushed back the foul humans looking to slaughter the village. You already know who I am, you simply haven’t accepted it.”

“Snake Lord,” Filius’ eyes almost popped out as he found the answer and quickly jumped from his chair to kneel before one of the Nation’s closest friends. **_“I pledge my blades to you Snake Lord, to bleed and kill as is your right. My wand is yours to cast and curse as is my honour. My life is your shield, my blood your fuel. Ask of me and it shall be done!”_**

There was no flash of light at the oath. It wasn’t a magical one but something far deeper and more important. It was an honour oath to follow Salazar into battle and peace, whether the latter be through victory or death mattered not and was something Harry accepted as solemnly as it was given.

**_“Rise, my blade and stand tall. Ready your soul for war so we can sow the seeds of peace. Our enemies come for our blood and they shall fall to our might. Stand, my brother, and walk proud.”_ **

Filius Flitwick rose and none in Hogwarts had seen him look taller nor as dangerous as he did in that moment. The two nodded to each other and the smaller man made his way back to his chair. “I wondered when I read about the Wizengamot session but did not wish to raise my hope.”

“You do not get messages from your King?”

“No,” Filius answered, settling in his chair so the two could look into the other’s eyes. “We do not trust Dumbledore to not manipulate the post. I go back at the end of each term to sharpen my skills and learn news.”

“You must have just missed me then. I reclaimed my rings on my birthday,” Harry picked up his bag and made to leave the room now that the Professor knew his identity. “Watch yourself Charms Master, we are surrounded by enemies.”

“Snake Lord,” Filius called out before he brought the wards down. Sal turned to give the half-goblin a questioning look. “If I may be so bold, the others?”

“Hermione, Luna and Neville,” Harry answered, not needing to say who was who out of the girls. Any goblin worth his blade who knew both and knew the truth about the Founders could work it out. Flitwick nodded and pulled the ward down, Harry knew the man had just sworn to protect all three when he wasn’t around.

His green eyes fell upon his waiting friends and they sparkled at the thought of Godric and a Firestone together again. He wondered if Hogsmeade could survive the damage once they got celebrating their victories.

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OoOoO

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The month of October passed with little fanfare. Almost everyone enjoyed Defence Against the Dark Arts despite Draco Malfoy’s constant disrespect over the teacher’s clothes, and Care of Magical Creatures continued to be exciting and insane. Hagrid had somewhat learned his lesson and was being a little more careful with his classes, but the students were still seeing the higher X creatures on the syllabus. In fact, the only issue came when Snape took over from a sick Lupin the Friday of the full moon’s first night. Sal found it highly suspicious considering the mixed classes always had DADA and Potions at the same time. It meant that the Potions teacher had been pulled out of his own subject to specifically teach the Gryffindor-Slytherin class. That the schedule had them facing double DADA followed by double Potions, no doubt also taught by Snape, meant they had three hours with the man.

Sal didn’t bother asking the castle who had taught the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw potions class. He didn’t need to.

“I was wrong,” Hermione huffed as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. The double Defence class was cut in half by an hour lunch which suited all those in red. It let them have a break from Snape’s snide comments about their useless teachers and terrible knowledge.

“Oh?” He asked. Neville was walking alongside them, and Luna appeared from nowhere as was her habit, happily sliding an arm around Neville’s elbow to force the boy to escort her like a gentleman should.

“I get that he’s currently the youngest Potions Master,” she frowned, glancing at the boy she had been in love with since he stuck his wand up a troll’s nose to save her life. She knew the moment Snape was out of their castle that Sal would be moving towards getting his Mastery – again – and beating the man’s record. “And that it might be a case of those who can, can’t teach.”

“Because he finds it too easy?” Neville asked, getting a nod from Hermione and a blinding smile from Luna at his logical reasoning.

“Exactly,” Hermione’s frowned deepened as she ran over the class using her exceptional memory. “But that was the same as Potions. Abrupt, lacking in proper explanations or details, and expecting us to know everything already. He simply doesn’t seem to know how to teach.”

“And that’s not including the ridiculously obvious ‘hint’ about Lupin,” Sal snorted.

Snape had been a ghost in his own Potions class, merely glaring at everyone while the instructions were on the board to be followed. They were the correct instructions and attempts to sabotage another’s work was met by a quickly created shield, a sneer, and detention, but that was the absolute limit of his involvement. He apparently thought not doing anything was the same as not crossing any lines. The Defence class had been somewhat back to the man’s worst with Harry and Neville getting the worst of his glares and sneers, but nothing that would threaten his job.

The only addition to Harry’s life had been Quidditch practice and the talented Seeker had decided to wait until he saw the next captain of the team before deciding whether to quit. He enjoyed the sport and loved flying on a broom but couldn’t stand an Oliver Wood copy who felt practicing before sunrise was not only a good idea but expected.

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OoOoO

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_30 th October 1993_

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend and Sal had once again cast the magical duplication spell. Given that Harry Potter was stuck inside Hogwarts without a guardian signature letting him visit the nearby village, Sal had decided it would be his magical double who went out into the world. The doppelganger was more than able to cast magic and do what needed to be done while Sal knew from experience that werewolves were able to pick up the shift in scent between real body and magical construct.

It was Lord Slytherin’s first foray into the world since the explosive Wizengamot session and his strong body, obviously expensive clothes, and powerful aura turned heads as he did some small bits of shopping in Diagon. He had already picked up Helga’s cup from the goblins and told them what the last two Horcruxes were. They had been as irate as Rowena and Helga had been at how the Dark Worm corrupted the Founders objects. Curse-breaking teams were being sent across the country to hunt for suspiciously protected areas linked to both Riddle and Gaunt names.

The Diagon shopping was merely a way of making himself visible to the public so they didn’t think he was a spectre. Minister Fudge had attempted to discredit him in the _Prophet_ but the Slytherin and Peverell names were just too infamous to cross, even at the bidding of the man at the top of the Ministry. Instead, the newspaper came to a compromise. Some hack named Rita Skeeter wrote opinion pieces looking to twist Sal’s reputation into whatever Fudge wanted while Fenetre, the journalist who wrote the first article, did counter-pieces that all but exposed Rita and the _Prophet_ for the for-hire business they were. Salazar found it a strange way of doing business and had his goblin approved lawyers ready in case they overstepped themselves.

The formidable Lord faked browsing at the latest Quidditch supplies and vanished the moment those watching turned their eyes away and the next time he was seen was in a room in St Mungo’s. The room already held two patients and five people in Unspeakable full-body robes who all pulled their wands when Salazar appeared from nowhere. Rather than be concerned, he simply held out a box to the one he knew was Algernon Longbottom.

“What’s this?”

“I never got around to naming it,” Sal admitted, moving past Croaker and whoever the other Unspeakables were despite three wands still pointing his way. “It’s a healing potion taken once a new moon for twelve moons. It will completely heal their bodies, up to and including their magical passageways, to the peak of their potential. Unfortunately, you’re on your own when it comes to their mental health. I never found a satisfactory way to make a universal potion to help there.”

“I’ve seen the changes in Harry Potter from June to now,” Croaker declared. “Are you saying that’s only a third of the way healing him?”

“I won’t ask how you’ve been keeping watch,” Sal snorted, kneeling to look at the two Longbottoms. “But yes, that’s what he’s taking.”

“How have we never heard of this?” One of the other Unspeakables demanded and Sal turned to raise an eyebrow at the two Unspeakable Heads. The question was very clear, just how in the know where the unknowns.

“This Triad has been vetted by both Algernon and I,” Croaker told the Founder. “They’re the most logical to act as your contacts considering you’re currently living on enemy ground. But what you tell them is down to you.”

Salazar considered the offer while he eyed the Triad. They could always do with more allies yet trusting was not something Sal did naturally. In the end, he decided to accept the offer otherwise there had been no point in creating the Unspeakables and his War Dogs.

“Names,” he demanded, and the Triad were shocked when Croaker broke protocol and revealed their identities.

“Andromeda Tonks, known as Freebird, Xeno Lovegood, known as Ink, Arthur Weasley, known as Sparks.”

Once more Sal snorted. Croaker really couldn’t have found a better trio.

“I, Salazar Antioch Peverell-Slytherin, freely give permission to Croaker and Longbottom of the Unspeakables to disclose what they need to about myself and family. Oh, and Croaker,” he nodded towards the one named Ink and smirked. “Rowena.”

The two Head Unspeakables felt the magic holding their tongues shift and knew they could now explain everything to the shocked Triad. And that apparently included the fact one of them was father to the reborn Rowena Ravenclaw. Algernon stepped forward as Sal placed a hand on Frank and Alice’s foreheads. “Can you tell us the spell?”

“A Dark Memory Cage curse that’s been in the Black family longer than its carried the name. The longer it is in place, the harder it is to break the victim free. I’ll be using Parsel magic and my blood ties to the Blacks to override Bellatrix’s signature and then bring them out of it.”

“Why both at the same time?”

“Because I’ll be bridging their minds,” he closed his eyes and began slow, focused breathing, drawing all the magic he could from his real body that was currently wandering around Hogwarts. “Their love and marriage bond will respond and put pressure on the cage from the inside.”

And then there was no more speaking as Sal began to hiss. Algernon quickly stepped back as Mage and patients were quickly engulfed in a magical aura the colour of the Killing Curse. The hissing continued and soon tendrils of magic could be seen coming off the Longbottoms, their colours clashing with his green as they reached for each other. The tendrils found each other and wound together, slithering up the opposite until husband and wife’s magic was touching their spouse. The parents of Neville Longbottom had been trapped in their own minds for thirteen years and it took over twenty hard fought minutes to break the curse without further damaging their minds.

The aura vanished in a blink and Sal quickly stood, backing away from the Longbottoms as Freebird rushed forward.

“Croaker,” he stared at the Head Unspeakable and didn’t bother lowering his voice. “Make sure they know the price of betraying me and mind.”

The dangerous Lord Slytherin vanished from the room and Croaker swallowed, hoping he hadn’t just signed the death warrants for three of his best with his suggestion.

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OoOoO

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It wasn’t much later that the magical construct of Salazar appeared deep in the belly of the Forbidden Forest. He was dressed in his basilisk-hide armour, his staff was in one hand and the other held his basilisk venom infused sword. His eyes glowed like emerald stars and there was a manic grin on his face that fitted his Dark Lord image.

A shimmer revealed a hungry Esmeralda who Salazar struck with an overpowered enlargement charm. She grew as he threw up quick and dirty trapping wards to keep animals inside the bubble. His bonded familiar only stopped growing once she reached the size of Slinky.

“Oh Aragog,” he called out in a sing-song voice. “It’s payback time!”

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OoOoO

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_Hogwarts_

While Harry’s other self and Esmeralda were gloriously slaughtering the entire Acromantula colony, down to the smallest of members, he had been invited to tea by Remus Lupin to commiserate his lack of ability to go to Hogsmeade.

“Well, Professor McGonagall seemed to miss the point about having a guardian sign the form,” he pointed out as he took the freshly brewed cup of tea. “The Dursleys are dead and I doubt people would have been happy if I learnt Necromancy just to have them sign a piece of paper.”

Harry timed the comment to match the moment Lupin was swallowing his first sip and inwardly smirked as the mouthful went everywhere and half the cup landed in the man’s lap. _Still got it_ , he thought as the werewolf teacher coughed, giving the boy an indescribable look.

“Yes,” Lupin’s voice was rough from the spit-take and he had to shake himself down to restart his thoughts. “I imagine people wouldn’t be.”

“Professor,” Harry said once the man had regained his composure and dried his soggy lap. He tried not grin as his other self was leaving a massacre in his wake and had entered the Acromantula nest proper. “Why were you so against me facing the boggart?”

“I thought that would have been obvious, Harry,” the man answered practically immediately. “I didn’t let you face the boggart because I assumed it would take the shape of Lord Voldemort. I didn’t think the class would handle Voldemort showing up in front of them.”

No one heard the manic laughter inside the Acromantula nest as Sal compared his parents’ murderer to the dark things he had faced in his past. Although Lupin did impress Harry by using the degenerate’s made up name.

“I guess I was wrong,” Lupin blinked at the blank expression his explanation caused, truly wondering what form the boggart would have taken that the boy considered worse than Voldemort.

Harry didn’t get a chance to answer as someone knocked on the classroom door. Both turned to see Snape carrying a large goblet of a smoking potion. The man stopped, and his expression darkened to the point of murderous at the sight of Harry blankly looking back.

Elsewhere, a rather large Acromantula had its insides transfigured into carnivorous bugs that ate the beast from the inside out. Another got a face full of _Fiendfyre_ as Salazar healthily vented from the sight of the man who had disgraced Sal’s profession for the past decade.

“Ah, Severus, thank you very much,” Lupin proclaimed louder than usual, trying his best to defuse the tense situation. No one had missed the glares Snape had been sending Harry’s way after the Wizengamot sessions and it was to guess why considering the man who threatened his position as professor was the Potter Regent. “Could you leave it on my desk, please.”

“You should drink it now, Lupin,” Snape directed, never taking his eyes off Harry.

The Acromantula nest shook with fury as Aragog’s mate was killed by Esmeralda while Salazar happily turned his eldest children inside out. Hagrid’s former pet was under a massively overpowered Parsel petrification spell that meant he was helpless in watching the slaughter.

“Yes, I will, don’t worry.”

“I’ve got an entire cauldron full if you need more.”

“I shall probably take some more tomorrow, thank you, Severus.”

On a whim, Salazar transfigured one of the smaller giant spiders into a monstrous eight-legged cannibalistic werewolf and banished it into the area with the most eggs. The beast did what he hoped and began eating its baby siblings.

“Not at all,” and still the man would or could not look away from the student staring straight back at him. The man took slow, deliberate steps back as though moving away from a predator and was then gone.

Harry turned away from the closed door to the smoking goblet and spoke before Lupin could come up with an excuse for its existence. “I really do understand the need for handling the feral nature of being a werewolf but drinking that swill is not good for you.”

“You, you know?” Lupin managed to stammer out and Harry merely shrugged.

“There’s only one potion that bubbles, steams, and has the rancid scent that’s giving off. Wolfsbane.”

The shock of Harry not only knowing about the Wolfsbane potion but being able to recognise it threw Remus Lupin for such a loop that he never got around to bringing up the Potters nor his history with them. It didn’t help that Harry seemed to be of the mind that working with the wolf would be far more beneficial to his health and wellbeing that taking a potion he knew actively weakened that terrible side of him. The discussion would have resulted in an all-out argument if Harry hadn’t simply stopped, gave a disappointed sigh, and walked out without another word. The man frowned all the way to Dumbledore’s office to report the strange encounter.

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OoOoO

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_7 th November 1993_

The following week attempted to drive Harry insane. The Sunday after his frustrating conversation with Professor Lupin saw Geraldine attacked by Sirius Black attempting to gain access to Gryffindor Tower and it was only a private talk with Harry, including the promise of protection wards around her frame, that had the portrait commonly called the Fat Lady back in place within two days.

After an uncomfortable night sleeping in the Great Hall, Harry couldn’t move from finding a teacher or prefect hovering around him. The constant ‘protection’ looked to make it highly difficult for the Awakened Founders to speak about their plans until a devastated Hagrid came howling into the Great Hall one dinner. The man had decided to check with Aragog on if he’d seen anyone suspicious and found destroyed remains of the Acromantula colony. Dumbledore had looked at the massacre sight in horror and it took the Headmaster a while to notice something missing beneath the blood, gore, and body parts.

There was a distinct lack of silk or any part of the dead spiders which could be used for potions ingredients or sold on the black market.

Despite the terrible weather, it was with great delight that Harry woke up on the storm-filled Saturday knowing he got to demolish the Slytherins in Quidditch.

The match itself was a roughhouse with the Slytherins using the cover of the storm to perform more fouls and attacks than they usually did. Sal, disgusted by those carrying his colours, swooped in and out of the field, disrupting play and blindsiding the opposition Chasers until they were frothing mad. Two out of the three were caked in mud as Harry had led a Slytherin hit Bludger into the flight path to knock student and broom to the ground. He had already caused Malfoy to crash from falling for his Wronksi Feint and both Wood and the Weasley twins looked like they were ready to kiss Sal from the sheer chaos he was causing.

The rain was coming down hard enough that he kept having to flick his Mage Sight on – a highly illegal move – to search for the illusive Snitch. The storm raged, and lightening lit the sky up on an almost consistent basis. Sal knew his girls would give him hell for playing in this weather and then want to storm the teacher’s lounge for allowing the game to go ahead.

One blast of lightening lit up the empty stadium seats and allowed Harry to catch a perfect look at a rain-drenched grim. He burned the image of the dog into his memory until Wood’s voice pulled him back to the game and the race was on for the Snitch.

Harry and Malfoy sped after the blasted golden ball, each determined to catch the thing and end the poor excuse of a Quidditch match. Harry’s Seeker instincts overwhelmed Salazar’s hyperawareness of the world around him and it wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the golden ball that Harry became aware of the heavy presence of Dementors.

It was misunderstood that the soul-sucking monsters of Azkaban were able to fly. They couldn’t. Instead, they had a powerful ability to levitate and float to swarm their target from all angles. It wasn’t enough to leave Azkaban, but it was certainly enough to attack Harry from all angles during the game.

Sal did his best to turn around, but the demons were too close. His broom was pointed almost straight up, his back was to the incoming beasts hungering for his soul, and the world slowed to a crawl. Harry saw Fred and George staring up at him in fear, a part of his mind taking in just how high the Snitch had brought him and wondering when Malfoy had chickened out on the chase, and he made a split-second decision. Nimble legs came up beneath him and Harry launched himself off the horizontal broom, driving it towards the Dementors and himself in the direction of the twins.

“Cassie, light the bastards up!” He shouted, opening himself up to Hogwarts. The castle reacted in primal fear for one of her parents.

The slow drain that Salazar had set up to remove the excessive wards became a powerful suction, ripping the magic into its purest and deadliest form. At the same time, Cassie drew deep from the Ley Lines beneath her and the primal magic they possessed and threw both into a protection that had been unused for centuries. The Dark ward blazed to life, destroying everything of possible danger to students and staff alike both inside the school and on the grounds. Objects long forgotten in dark corners of the school and newly brought to Hogwarts died as the emergency protection flashed to life and burned them to cinders.

Those connected to the wards felt the raw power overload them. Dumbledore cried out and fell to his knees from the magical backlash while Harry’s younger body burned internally from the abuse as he sailed through the air.

Snape was not so lucky. The moment the magical pulse hit his body, pain beyond even the Dark Lord’s Cruciatus erupted from the Dark Mark as it burst into flames, burning away his left forearm and hand before Flitwick was able to get close enough cut off the appendage ahead of the magical fire. The pulse finally reached its targets and three quarters of Britain’s Dementor population screamed in unholy agony as their bodies were roasted from the unfiltered magical attack.

Such a defensive ward was never a long-term thing. Salazar had sacrificed time for power when he created it and the ward collapsed less than thirty seconds after it activated. Harry felt the familiar magic of his sisters slowing and guiding his fall as horrified Weasleys desperately looked to catch their insane Seeker. Identical arms reached out and it was a miracle when flesh met flesh. The twins were almost pulled off their own brooms by the sheer force of catching Harry, who grunted as both his shoulders were pulled out of their sockets by the sudden stop of moment.

“Hey guys, how’s it hanging?” He grinned, teeth covered in blood from the internal trauma of the magic he had just commanded. The Snitch continued to flutter in his numb grip.

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OoOoO


	10. Best Laid Plans of Rats and Snakes I

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

Best Laid Plans of Rats and Snakes

 

_7 th November 1993_

 

Neville Longbottom wasn’t at Hogwarts the Saturday of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match. The miraculous recovery of the famous Longbottom Aurors had been kept from both public and family. The two leaders of the Unspeakables had immediately taken control of the situation once a horrified Freebird had cleared Frank and Alice for magical travel. Croaker and Algie moved through St Mungo’s like demented spirits, taking everything and anything patient related to learn who exactly had dropped the Quaffle when it came to Longbottoms’ misdiagnosis.

 

The patients and the Unspeakable Triad arrived deep within the Department of Mysteries and inside the Unspeakables’ Infirmary. A frantic Freebird was barking out orders left and right, demanding and getting potions, medical scans, and anything else she wanted and Magic help those who didn’t get it fast enough.

 

While the woman might have skipped out on a preliminary marriage contract between herself and Lucius Malfoy, throwing her sister Narcissa under the broom for _that_ honour and been disowned before her majority, Andromeda Tonks was not a novice when it came to the House of Black’s Family Magic. That the Longbottoms had been stuck in their own minds when any Black worth the name could have released them from their prisons sent a chill through her spine.

 

Even she, a Black who had never been able to touch the ‘adult’ books, had heard of and knew the power of the Memory Cage Curse. She had simply never gotten the chance to learn its signs. It had taken a combination of her two partners and Algernon Longbottom to ultimately calm Andromeda down and not take the blame for Frank and Alice’s long-term state on her own shoulders. The misplaced guilt would be completely dissolved when the former Aurors had managed to put their own opinion on the matter a few days later.

 

Algernon moved his nephew and niece-in-law to Longbottom Hall that Thursday and the infirmary almost had its third Longbottom patient when his sister-in-law Augusta saw her children awake and lucid. Her hysteria turned to sub-zero cold fury at being told _exactly_ what type of screwup had been going on at St. Mungo’s. The Unspeakables didn’t know exactly who had initiated the falsified diagnosis but they had no doubt it was a deliberate act. Hearing the name of the man who had saved Frank and Alice had all non-Unspeakable Longbottoms swearing to stand beside Lord Slytherin and Harry Potter against anyone wishing them harm.

 

Neville Longbottom had been dragged out of Hogwarts after his last class on Friday to find his parents awake, smiling, and ready with all the hugs his young heart had ached for. To Neville’s surprise, both Augusta and Uncle Algie had repeated their apologies in person and in front of Frank and Alice.

 

The time of the Quidditch match saw Neville moving through his beloved greenhouses, taking pride in his work even more once he heard from his mum that talented hands were very much a Fortescue trait. His dad had laughed at Neville’s shock, explaining just how bad Frank Longbottom sucked at Herbology and that he was ultimately banned from the NEWT class no matter his OWL mark because, as Professor Sprout had claimed, he kept killing off her beloved plants. Neville’s thoughts turned to his Seeker friend and wondered how much Harry had known of what was going on with his parents when the boy in question had Hogwarts activate the anti-Dark ward. The magical ties between Hogwarts’ most powerful defences and the heir to Godric Gryffindor were ripped open at the threat to school and students, causing Neville to collapse as last of the Founders was Awakened.

 

The growing of Neville’s self-confidence through Harry’s actions since the Chamber incident had been added to by the relief of having his parents back. This meat that the merging, while not as smooth as for Helga and Rowena, was far better than the mess of Salazar and Harry. The man in a growing boy’s body pulled himself to his feet and automatically scanned the greenhouse for threats as he calmed his erratic heartbeat.

 

His first instincts were to run back to Hogwarts and deal with the threat to his school, but he fought that down. Sal had obviously Awakened inside the Chamber when someone let Slinky loose, and he was _still_ going to rag on his brother about the idiotic idea of having the Awakening key being basilisk venom in the blood. Luna’s sudden forwardness in claiming him since the 1 st September was an obvious indication of his love being back in the land of the living. And while Godric wasn’t sure if Helga was back yet, there was no doubt in his mind who her new life was. The scary intelligence mixed with mothering attention that Hermione had given him in throughout their Potions classes just screamed Helga Hufflepuff.

 

Neville straightened his body and twisted his neck back and forth, cracking the bones as he lazily practiced his silent-wandless Conjurations. He barely paid attention to what he was making, giving the results just enough focus to find out what he had to work on and what he didn’t, and instead ran over everything he had seen and heard since Salazar’s reappearance.

 

 _Enemy of Dumbledore_ , he thought, scoffing at how lacking the word ‘enemy’ was in connection to his brother and the man controlling their school. _Politics as well as in school. Sal’s attacks at direct, screaming ‘look at me, look at me, ain’t I a threat?’ Means he’s playing a long-game and needs people in place._

 

Neville huffed as he realised there was little he could deduce from Harry’s public actions. Even the Wizengamot spanking of Severus Snape could have been for personal vindictiveness rather than hint at some grand scheme. And that was the truth of Slytherin tactics that the modern generations had so drastically missed. To truly be a snake, one must be able to act in such a way as others do not know if there is an ulterior motive behind the moves. From what Neville could see comparing his childhood lessons with his memories of the man himself, modern Slytherins thought they had to _always_ have a secret plan. Which meant they were never trusted.

 

With his options limited and his exercises over, Neville made his way back to Longbottom Hall to spend more time with his parents. Godric remembered when the place had been built as a wedding present from his brother-in-law Bjorn Longbottom.

 

The Longbottoms had been feared Viking raiders for centuries, whether the head of the Clan had magic or not didn’t seem to affect their achievements and legend. The Clan were also long friends with House Peverell and once the then Clan Chief Erik had heard of his good friend Antioch’s murder. Erik chased the killer, Emeric the Evil, all across the country and crossing paths with an equally determined Kydan Pendragon who was after the Dark Wizard for identical reasons. The two ultimately became friends, saving each other’s lives against the bastard with the Elder Wand, and promised their children to each other should the two survive.

 

The friends did and Emeric fell to a horrific death at the hands of another Dark Wizard after the two had earlier exhausted him in combat. With their prey dead, the Elder Wand in the wind, and families waiting for them back at their respective homes, House Pendragon and Clan Longbottom parted on good terms. Cue almost two centuries later and Godric was five when the first female Longbottom was born since the agreement.

 

Philomena Longbottom was as ferocious as her brother, as capable with a sword and dagger, and took no nonsense from anyone. She had grown up around drunken Vikings and was easily able to handle Godric and Salazar when they had their ‘adventures.’ In fact, it was Philomena who taught both men the true art of the blade, much to Bjorn’s merriment with how often the two Founders found themselves on their arses or bleeding.

 

Neville’s smile at the memory of his wife was laden with sadness. The phenomenal woman succumbed to the only thing that could kill her; age. Not even sharing his magic with his non-magical wife could get her to her sixtieth birthday but they were damn close. And then he had decades more to watch from afar as Rowena enjoyed a pleasant marriage with Hogwarts’ first Healer. The Founders were four friends, two couples madly in love, and none got their happy endings.

 

It was no surprise considering his heavy thoughts that Neville reacted when his Uncle Algie walked out of the Hall’s front door on his way to the Ministry. The two nodded and passed the other, Neville’s body moving instinctively to spin and kick behind the man’s kneecap. Algernon’s leg collapsed, dropping him to a knee, and a conjured silver dagger pressed against his throat as the full might of Godric Gryffindor’s magic pressed down to keep the Unspeakable from being able to move.

 

“Do you really think sorry cuts it, Uncle?” He snarled in Algernon’s ear, his free hand pulling his prey’s hair back to stretch the neck out against his blade. “Give me a reason not to make you disappear in your grief over how you treated me.”

 

Algernon Longbottom was not a stupid man. If the words and knife at his throat weren’t clues enough, the sheer power keeping him from moving would have revealed the fact that this wasn’t just his grand-nephew asking. And if there was one thing Godric Gryffindor was known for, it was a distinct lack of control over his temper.

 

“I’m head War Dog, I’m head War dog,” he desperately spluttered, delighted to feel the rigid hold lessening at the words. While the sheer amount of security spells kept him from being able to speak the Latin title of _canes pugnaces_ , there was a leeway to allow a modern translation. “You should have been given to your godfather the same as Harry Potter.”

 

“Godfather?” This was the first Neville knew of him having one.

 

“Cyrus Greengrass. Only no one remembers it apart from myself and Cyrus and the wills weren’t read because your parents were still alive. Dumbledore made sure Cyrus’ appeals for your custody were rejected and he couldn’t push without alienating Augusta.”

 

Neville’s knife vanished, and he stepped carefully around his Uncle as the man pulled himself to his feet. He might not look it but Algernon was as old as Augusta and the many years were making themselves felt after the attack. A trickle of blood ran down his neck and both ignored it.

 

“So, you tried making me as strong as you could when it became obvious Dumbledore was playing some type of game,” Neville said, getting a nod in reply. The boy smirked and titled his head, looking his physical age and not the seasoned warrior he had been acting. “Sal threatened you, didn’t he? That’s why you sent me the letter and made sure Gran did the same.”

 

The resulting glare had Neville chuckling. “Yeah, that sounds like my brother.”

 

“Neville. Is he in there?” The Unspeakable asked, voicing a concern that had been eating at him since he first met Salazar.

 

“The Awakening, the merger, it doesn’t kill out new lives,” Neville explained, completely understanding the man’s worry. “It’s _supposed_ to be a clean merging of the two. The current life being given all the powers, knowledge, and political influence of the old one without losing their identity or anything that makes them who they are. But the way Harry and I were raised, Harry more so, means we were never going to handle that. You almost destroyed me trying to me ready for some nebulous attack. I’ll say it’ll take Harry at least another year or two before he and Sal are one and the same rather than how they are now. I don’t know what Harry’s life was like with those Muggles, but I recognise the signs from when I first met Sal.”

 

Anything Algernon was going to say about the idea of Salazar Slytherin being abused as a child was cut off when a Patronus appeared and the voice of Croaker spoke out its glowing mouth. “Head to Hogwarts. Eyes on the School have sent a report to Amelia requesting DMLE aid. Dumbledore and Snape are injured along with Harry Potter and a massive chunk of the Dementors are dead.”

 

“That would do it,” Neville snorted, getting a strange look from Algernon. “We each had our own way of waking up if we were needed. Sal’s was typically Sal, Helga had a journal that her new life would need to search for even if they didn’t know what it was that they were trying to find, the gods only know what Rowena’s was, and mine was if the Hogwarts protection wards activated at one of their highest levels for the safety of all. Not just some or a few, but the entire school. Rampaging Dementors would have kicked our anti-Dark ward into activating. I’m assuming it was that that did this since Sal’s description when he put it in was ‘shock and burn.’”

 

Algernon blinked at the information and wondered if he could ask his nephew to pick Slytherin’s brain for how the ward worked. Or he could get one of the other Unspeakables to talk to the infamous Founder. “Are you coming?”

 

“I have no legitimate reason to,” Neville answered with a shake of the head. He was heading towards the Hall before he even finished speaking. Sal could have been on his deathbed and would still rise to protect the school if the threat was still around. Given his Peverell blood, it was highly possible he could do it after his death too. Rowena being there meant there was another protector in place and Neville simply couldn’t see anything major happening enough to need his presence. Especially if the Unspeakables and DMLE were already being called in for clean-up and interviews.

 

“Uncle,” he half-turned and called over his shoulder just before the man Apparated away. The look was enough to tell Algernon he was once more talking to Godric. “When we win against whoever is threatening us, and we will, you will disappear to some forgotten family home and stay far away from House Longbottom. Should you not try your best against what’s coming, should you even _think_ about betraying us, I will show you why in our day, the name Godric Gryffindor was feared more than that of Salazar Slytherin.”

 

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OoOoO

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Hermione Granger, also known as Helga Hufflepuff, had not spent the month of October being idle. She was in almost constant communication with the goblins using the power of both her Founder’s name and that of Slytherin to use them as information gatherers as well as intermediaries for contacting the world outside of the British Isles. Hermione was obsessed with learning everything she could about the world in relation to how it affected her and her family, new and old, digging up any information on threats and building relationships with potential allies to battle.

 

She learnt that the Magical Lands of Iberia were still going strong and daring anyone stupid enough to take up the challenge of invading them. Apparently, every few decades someone indeed tried and the magical country spanning across Spain, Portugal, Andorra, Gibraltar, and any other land south of the Pyrenees, got to let loose their Iberian Vultures, a magical species trained to eat live prey. One letter from Salazar and the main branch of House Innocenti were more than happy to speak to their Iberian cousins. And didn’t Helga’s eager and enjoyable interactions with the House Sal had been forced to marry into ruffle her Snake’s feathers. She always shook her head at his self-enforced guilt when it came to him being forced to save Belladonna Innocenti and not her.

 

Elsewhere across Europe saw Hermione delighted to find that Bjorn Longbottom’s dream of unifying the Scandinavian countries had somewhat been successful. The Nordic Coalition might still retain their independent identities as countries, but they were almost always united in their political actions and sent their best and brightest to the Viking Institute for Magic built upon the very land Bjorn and Philomena Longbottom had been born. The Institute apparently split their students into Longbottoms (War Magic), Peverells (Rituals, Spells, and all things that made others nervous) and Slytherins (diplomacy first, slaughter second). That description had tickled the Gryffindor student when she read it in the exuberant letter directly from the Institute’s Headmaster.

 

The rest of Europe was nothing like the Founders had known but given Hermione’s understanding of Muggle history, that wasn’t a surprise at all. The Byzantine Empire, the birthplace of Rowena’s husband Florien, had shattered to leave everything east of Germany an apparent Wild West of attitudes, beliefs, and switching allegiances when it came to magical politics. Gellert Grindelwald’s decades-long magical threat that spanned both World Wars was more than enough of a reason for the resulting mess in those countries.

 

Not everything came up smelling of roses for the Awakened Founder. Salazar’s chuckle over how many votes their quartet would possess in the Wizengamot had the two girls scrambling about to send questions of inheritance to the goblins. Although nothing was guaranteed until everyone had the proper tests done, the guessed results were far from promising. Luna had at least three Houses she would have to pass on in Ravenclaw, Lovegood, her mother’s family that was mysteriously never mentioned, and there was a better than a fifty-percent chance she or a daughter would qualify for the Le Fey Ladyship depending on if there were any eligible, honourable, and willing female Blacks. Hermione was better in only having Hufflepuff and the long thought dead Dagworth-Granger House ready to be woken up. But there was a risk at more since the goblins found a strange repeating pattern of Grangers marrying cast-out squibs. Hermione and the goblins didn’t believe it would put her in any position of inheriting another name just yet, but it set up the possibility if specific people were to die off.

 

The problem of passing off names to their children was an even greater tangled mess when they included the influence their boys wielded. While the Gryffindor name was the same as the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs in that they had no intrinsic Family Magics of their own, and so could be given to any child they wished, the Pendragon and Longbottom families were steeped in Family Magics that had to be taken into consideration when talking of inheritances. And Harry had at least three Houses with their own specific Magics, two of which couldn’t be given to just any child possessing the right blood.

 

And it all meant that the girls were secretly pulling their hair out trying to find an answer to how such important names could be passed on to the next generation while still getting the men they had waited almost a millennium for.

 

So, when Hermione took a day off from all her politics, letter writing, and worrying about having enough children to satisfy inheritance needs to watch Harry play Quidditch, she barely noticed the torrential storm hanging over Hogwarts. She was far too busy letting all her worries slip away and watch how free Harry was when he was on a broom. She was so caught up in her Harry-Watch and deliberately not thinking about anything serious that she missed the sense of dread building until she saw Harry pulling up sharp. He was too far away for her to work out what was going on through the massive deluge but the Dementor chill that swept the Quidditch stands gave her the only clue she needed.

 

Neither Hermione nor Luna got a chance to react before a flash of lightning ripped open the skies to let them see Harry launching himself off his broom towards the Weasley twins flying beneath him. _Far_ beneath him. Both Founders felt Hogwarts react and their eyes widened as they recognised the magic surging in the air a heartbeat before the massive pulse expanded out to cover everything from the castle down to Hogsmeade Village. There was an unholy cacophonic of noise as Dementors were set ablaze with a focused blast of raw magical fire and many students pressed their palms to their ears to block out the terrible sound. The two girls ignored it. They barely registered a flash of fire and two male screams coming from the Teachers’ box. Instead, they focused on the falling body of one Harry Potter and held their wands ready to catch the fool.

 

Twin explosions of relief followed the moment Fred and George took possession of the falling boy. Hermione and Luna were among a horde racing onto the pitch as the Weasley twins brought Harry to the ground. Luna sent a vicious glare at Oliver Wood who was floating to the ground alongside his teammates. The Quidditch obsessed Seventh Year had whooped with glee at seeing the Snitch weakly fluttering in Harry’s grasp. The team captain must have sensed her eyes as he turned and paled once he saw her face. She nodded at his legitimate fear and turned back to her brother, secretly rolling her eyes at how Wood’s own hadn’t stopped shining with delight at the victory even as his blood rushed from his face.

 

 _Boys._ Luna scoffed.

 

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OoOoO

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Amelia Bones was a conflicted woman. One of the very last of House Bones, Amelia had spent the past decade following You-Know-Who’s defeat at the brow of Harry Potter learning everything she could about her family’s magic and history, so she could then pass the knowledge on to her niece. Some of what she found had horrified the law-abiding head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, not least of all was the family’s ties to the Peverell name and what House Bones had done against their enemies. Amelia was a woman who believed in the law, who believed the law should be what gives punishment to the guilty, a sense of closure to the victims, and protection to the innocent. It seemed her ancestors were more prone to acting in the law’s place than letting it work, so much so that there was an actual Fidelius Nomine woven into the House’s Family Magic that would allow the Head rename the family and separate themselves from their legacy. Cast the spell, rename the House, and all legal links were changed while everything else was broken off to keep their new name pure.

 

It was a practice that had apparently been done numerous times down the centuries and some of the names her family had once worn were powerful influences with a reputation that still caused the rising of fear if anyone thought they were potentially returning.

 

But what truly worried Amelia was the fact that the new Peverell Lord could politically call upon House Bones and demand she follow his lead. For someone who had made a career and reputation about being just, fair, and incorruptible, being in such a position was untenable to the proud woman. Which was why, when the mysterious note appeared on her desk giving her an unbelievable situation at Hogwarts, Amelia Bones jumped at the opportunity to investigate it. Especially since it allowed her to get close to the boy who was at the centre of her personal crisis.

 

It was a decision that saw Amelia Bones, Senior Auror Gawain Robards and Senior Hit Wizard Alastor Gumboil follow a squad of Hit Wizards Apparating into Hogsmeade. Another squad followed with the same number of Aurors backing them up in less than five minutes. In total, thirty-nine DMLE personnel swarmed Hogsmeade with some taking eyewitness reports, others investigating the still smoking bodies of dead Dementors, and more spreading out around the village to search for any sign of a threat.

 

Amelia’s group stormed up to Hogwarts at a rush and all three senior officers were glad for Lord Slytherin’s Auror Bill being passed. The DMLE’s budget almost tripled, getting back to what it had been before Cornelius Fudge became Minister, and the department had been able to take back those who had been cut from the forces from lack of finance. While it would be a long time before new blood was seen in the DMLE, old friends and survivors of the Blood War were back to help right a ship that had been going desperately off course.

 

The rain eased off as the contingent travelled, the horrible weather that had been influenced by the Dementors already dissipating from the cleansing from the ward’s magic. Amelia was not surprised to find a Grey Cloak waiting for her group at the school’s entrance. Who else could deliver a warning to her using a note that appeared from nowhere inside of her office without it setting off any alarms?

 

“Report,” she barked, uncaring that the Unspeakables were usually outside of her control. If the Grey Cloak didn’t want her there, she wouldn’t have been given the warning. Which meant they got her as she came.

 

“The Gryffindor-Slytherin match was going as you’d expect in the storm until the Dementors swarmed the stadium. They focused entirely on the Gryffindor Seeker, Harry Potter, who didn’t see them through the storm until they were almost on top of him. The kid used his broom as a diving board and dropped a hundred feet at an angle to be caught by Arthur Weasley’s twin boys. Hogwarts activated a protective ward that released raw magic from her Ley Lines that destroyed the Dementors, proved that Severus Snape had the Dark Mark, and did something to Dumbledore’s head that I’m unsure of.”

 

The entire summation was given as the Unspeakable was leading them into the castle itself, broken up by Amelia’s interruptions as she posted the last of her squad at specific points in the school as well as giving them instructions. It was only the Unspeakable and the senior trio who arrived at the Hospital Wing’s floor.

 

“You’re being awfully sharing for a Grey Cloak,” she pointed out, not even bothering to hide her suspicion.

 

The Unspeakable looked between them before answering. “My superiors might be heavily invested in this situation, Madam Bones, but so are you. There are parties involved that are tied to both sides of our strained equation and so it behoves our Department to work with you.”

 

“What do you mean it proved Snape _had_ the Dark Mark, Unspeakable…?”

 

Robards’ question hung in the air and they could tell the Grey Cloak was smiling beneath the infamously powerful obscuring spells on their hood. “Ink, my designation is Ink. And I meant, Senior Auror, that the release of magic was on one specific magical tone; threat assessment and elimination. Anything of danger that the ward sensed as a danger to the student population immediately burst into controlled magical fire. Severus Snape’s left forearm just so happened to spontaneously combust in the very area the Dark Mark is known to reside. It was only a cutting curse from Filius Flitwick that the man was left with a stump rather than dying.”

 

The Unspeakable apparently said all they were willing to. The individual stepped back, gave a firm nod to Amelia, and vanished as though they were never there. Although whether it was concealment charms powerful enough to hide from her special monocle, some weird Apparition that got them through Hogwarts’ legendary rejection of the ability, or something else, none of them could tell.

 

Amelia simply rolled her eyes and Gumboil snorted at the showmanship. The trio strode into the Infirmary to find an unconscious one-armed Potions Professor stretched out on a bed, an extremely groggy Headmaster Dumbledore sitting on the side of another with his head resting on his palms, and an apparently unhurt Harry Potter blinking at the new arrivals.

 

“Questions, Amelia?” Poppy Pomfrey snapped as she stepped out of her office, the words causing Dumbledore to look up with squinted eyes as though heavily hungover. “I won’t have you bothering my patients, not even if you are the DMLE Head.”

 

“What are –” Dumbledore tried to say.

 

“I’ll speak to them,” Harry called out, talking over the Headmaster while sounding like a typical thirteen-year-old boy. “I want to tell them what happened before Snape wakes up and has me arrested.”

 

“Why would I have to arrest you, Mister Potter?” Amelia asked, stepping around the frowning Medi-witch and making her way to his bed. Gumboil and Robards followed slightly slower to keep themselves between Dumbledore and their boss.

 

“Snape always blames me,” Harry petulantly frowned, sending a glare at the unconscious man. “I’m the root of everything bad that happens, just like my father. Madam Pomfrey had to put him to sleep because he kept talking about how I’d pay for his arm and that you’d make sure my wand was snapped, my magic bound, and I’d be thrown out of the wizarding world, thrown into Azkaban, and Kissed. Is it possible to have all those things happen at the same time?”

 

The question was said with such a puzzling frown that Robards ended up snickering while Amelia fought back a smile.

 

“Some of those things seem a bit redundant to me, Mister Potter,” she told him, conjuring a chair so she could sit near the bottom of the bed.

 

“Now, Harry, Severus was merely speaking out because of the pain. He never meant any of it.”

 

The boy turned his green eyes to the Headmaster and for a split-second, Amelia saw such _hatred_ for the man that it took her breath away. The emotion vanished as quickly as it came but she knew it had been there. “Do you know what my very first Potions lesson was like?”

 

The question was a rhetorical one as the Boy-Who-Lived pushed on before Dumbledore could speak and Amelia was heavily reminded of Lord Slytherin during the Wizengamot sessions.

 

“I was so excited to learn potions. I saw its link to cooking and knew this would be something that I could really excel at. Your _Professor_ Snape made sure to kill that joy,” the boy spat the word ‘professor’ and Amelia caught a worried Pomfrey wincing from her position watching her patient. Now Amelia had flashbacks to Lily Evans putting James Potter and Sirius Black in their place when the friends went after another student. “He called me a celebrity and sneered at me when taking the registry. A celebrity for surviving the night my parents were killed. Then he targets me because apparently taking notes on his introduction speech is a big no-no. He then hits me with questions and not one was on material covered before Yule. Not one. Yet I was suddenly overrated and not all-knowing when I didn’t have the answers. And then he snaps at the whole class for not doing the very thing I was doing when he started on me. And that, Professor, is the most polite that man has been to me since I stepped foot in this building!”

 

“Harry, enough,” Pomfrey snapped, hating to see any patient get worked up when in her care. “Albus, take your potion and go rest in your room. I won’t have you working Mister Potter up any more.”

 

“Now, Poppy, I must be here if Amelia is going to talk to Harry. I must act _in loco parentis_.”

 

“Not to an emancipated minor you don’t, and it’s Lord Potter to you,” Harry snapped, holding up his hand to reveal the Potter ring. He barely noticed the twinge of his abused shoulder muscles at the movement. “I’m also under the protection of House Slytherin until I reach my majority so take your _in loco parentis_ and strangle it with your bloody beard.”

 

This time it was Dumbledore’s face that had the flash of anger before his gentile mask slipped back into place, but Amelia caught this as well and now had more pieces of the puzzle. The next part only added to the picture.

 

“I don’t know where this anger is coming from but…”

 

“Dursleys. Ten years of whippings, beatings, starvation, not knowing my own name, living in a fucking cupboard under the stairs. Do I need to go on?”

 

While most of the conversation had been an act by Sal, the last eruption was pure honest fury. Salazar’s memories and knowledge had allowed Harry to move past his time with the Dursleys and no longer let it define who he was and how he acted. But the mental scars and emotional wounds remained as they always did for survivors. And those wounds could split open at any time to disrupt the person’s mental equilibrium no matter how put-together the person was. Having the man who placed Harry in his abusive home look to force him into giving respect to the teacher who had been as verbally abusive as the Dursleys was one such situation.

 

“I will leave you to it then, Harry,” Dumbledore sighed. He was so thrown by the revelation of Harry being Lord Potter that the grandfatherly ‘I’m so disappointed’ action came across as false to everyone there. “Do remember you can come to me at any point for advice. On anything. Amelia, Alastor, Gawain.”

 

The room watched Dumbledore walk away and only when the doors closed behind him did Amelia turn back to Harry. “Lord Potter, what you said about…”

 

“No point, Madam Bones,” Harry was shaking his head the moment he realised where she was going. Pomfrey was already checking him over to make sure his sudden arm movement hadn’t thrown his recovering joint for a loop. “Vernon gave me a bad vibe my first day back there in the summer and I left before the sunset. He killed my aunt, put my cousin in a coma and killed himself. At most, the person who put me with them would get a slap on the wrist for not keeping an eye on me when I was given to blood relatives.”

 

The adults paled at the empty way Harry described the Dursleys’ fate. Amelia was sure she could do _something_ for the boy, but she wasn’t proud enough to think the trauma of dragging his pain into the Wizengamot’s light would be worth the result. Not if there was no deliberate malice in the boy’s placement. Instead, the pragmatic woman turned to what she could impact. “What’s the diagnosis, Poppy?”

 

“Both shoulders dislocated, both rotator cuffs torn to pieces and internal damage from exposure to huge amounts of raw magic. Everything has been patched up, but I’ll be keeping him until Monday evening to make sure there are no complications in the healing.”

 

Robards whistled at the damage and eyed the kid who was leaning back against his piled-up pillows. Potter’s face was that of boredom and amusement, as though he was only humouring the Medi-witch. But if his childhood was what he had hinted at, it would explain the casual acceptance of his injuries.

 

“You feel up to answering some questions, Lord Potter?”

 

“Mister is fine outside of official functions, Madam Bones,” Harry immediately corrected with a wave of the hand that housed the invisible ring. “While I know my place in our society, I also know I’ve got four more years before people are comfortable with me being what I am.”

 

“And what happens when they forget?” Gumboil asked, getting a vicious smirk in return.

 

“Then the full weight of me and my Regent come crashing down on them and they never forget again.”

 

“And where is your Regent?” Amelia asked far too casually.

 

“Probably somewhere cursing my extremely Gryffindor-ish tendencies and wondering if I’ll make it to my seventeenth birthday. You know, what with facing down possessed teachers and fighting basilisks with nothing by my bare hands and a sword respectively.”

 

The combined ‘what???’s had Sal secretly smirking and he took the next hour going over everything that had happened to him in the past two years, including the bathroom and troll escapade. The adults were horrified at what they were hearing, even more so because Harry easily provided memories of every incident. They eventually got onto the reason the DMLE were there and Harry continued his explanation.

 

“The Dementors were attacking so I did what any sane, rational individual would do. Got out of dodge.”

 

“By jumping two hundred feet off a broom,” Pomfrey snapped, only to get a grin for her worries.

 

“Two hundred?” Robards asked, remembering the figure the Unspeakable had given them.

 

“The Weasley Twins had followed me up about halfway when I was chasing the Snitch,” Harry explained, mentally calculating the distance they had been from him. “They do that sometimes to keep the Bludgers off my back if I’m flying straight up. Yeah, I’d say they were probably about a hundred below me when I jumped.”

 

The blasé attitude to his student was horrifying to the adults and the DMLE contingent quickly got out of the Infirmary before his Gryffindor insanity became contagious. He never told them that he had trust in the girls saving his hide, nor that he knew of ways to magically fly if the worst was to happen. The looks on their faces made Sal’s day.

 

The result of the event was having the Aurors and Hit Wizards remain in and around Hogwarts as guards to hunt for Sirius Black while the last few Dementors eagerly went with the handlers to return to Azkaban. The demons had seen their numbers decimated and knew something all the humans around them didn’t. It was a deliberate act and a warning.

 

.

.

OoOoO

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.

 

It didn’t take long for the Gryffindor Quidditch, team to descend upon the Infirmary once Harry’s interview was over. There was the usual chaos when the team got together, especially the girls in how they gushed and laughed with Harry like a little brother. Just as Godric had been the first to teach Salazar the meaning of family beyond blood, so had the team done the same for Harry Potter.

 

Their appearance brought with the wood chippered remains of Harry’s Nimbus. Apparently, his launch off the broom had sent it hurtling full speed into the Whomping Willow and the tree had taken offence. Harry hoped the tree didn’t know who the former broom had belonged to. The gloom over the dead broom vanished when the twins attempted to re-enact the dive and catch, including climbing to the Infirmary’s rafters to make it more realistic. That insanity had the entire team laughing and Pomfrey kicking them all out for disturbing her domain. George had managed to shake Harry’s hand and give him a sly wink as he palmed something off before being chased away.

 

Katie whispered frantically to the Medi-witch who ultimately nodded. “Five minutes, Miss Bell, and then you too must be gone. My patients need their rest.”

 

Harry snorted at that, eying the only other person in need of medical care. He hadn’t missed the fact that Pomfrey was keeping Snape unconscious, although he couldn’t tell whether that was through spell or potion. His attention went back to the obvious fourth year and politely waited for Katie to get herself together.

 

“I hated you for a couple of weeks after you joined the team,” she confessed, lifting her head so they could look each other in the eye. He respected the girl the other two of Gryffindor’s famous Flying Foxes called Sunshine and held back on using any type of Legilimency on her. “I practised so hard the summer after my first year to make sure I had a shot at the team. I thought that even if I didn’t get the spot, I’d know how much more I had to work. But I actually got on the team.”

 

The smile that came with her remembering showed exactly where the nickname Angelina and Alicia called her came from. Not only did it light up Katie’s face and take the pretty teenager into the highly attractive territory, but it naturally made any who saw it feel better about their day. Harry mentally sighed, already seeing where she was going with the confession. “And then I came along.”

 

“It wasn’t that you got on the team, Harry,” she almost pleaded to be believed. “But I had worked _so_ much and then – “

 

“And then I have one dodgy flying lesson, never been on a broom before, and get given the position that means everyone would be singing my name if we won games.”

 

The girl looked ready for a nervous breakdown and Harry’s arms instinctively opened. Katie didn’t wait, diving into the hug that promised forgiveness faster than Hermione usually did after a huge scare.

 

“’Lina set me straight,” Katie mumbled into his sore shoulder. “And then I saw you jump and all I could think was how much of a bitch I had been without you even knowing.”

 

He held the crying girl, making soft noises of encouragement and hands ran through her brown hair and down her back. Sal’s experience with the girls and later the students meant Harry had no real embarrassment over holding the teen as she freed herself of a burden that had never been needed. The sobs slowly eased off and Katie pulled back, only to be stopped as Harry’s thumbs brushed beneath her red eyes to vanish away any proof of her tears.

 

Harry should have expected what happened next. Yet, the truth was that Salazar Slytherin had lost out on the love of his life by falling into a Life Debt that was paid by marriage and had very little experience in relationships before that. Which meant it caught Harry by surprise when Katie kissed him. The girl holds her lips to his for a heartbeat and then drew back with a wistful smile.

 

“Hermione?”

 

“Yeah,” he croaked, the sadness filling his green eyes causing her heart to break. “I’m sorry, Katie, I am. It’s just that…”

 

“You two have been together since the troll. I know.”

 

Harry watched the girl walk out of the Infirmary with her head high and refused to look away until the doors closed behind her. He owed her that.

 

“You’re a good man, Harry Potter,” Pomfrey’s voice said from her office door. “Now get some rest.”

 

He nodded and scooted back against his angled pillows, eying the destroyed broom until he was sure the Medi-witch had settled down. It was then that he pulled the letter George had slipped him from beneath his thigh where it had been hidden. The piece of parchment was folded small enough to fit into the palm of a hand just quickly expanded as Harry opened it.

 

A tatty parchment dropped from the expanded note that had Sal’s eyebrows raise. The last time he had seen the object was when he snuck into their dorm room to hide his real name from its connection to the wards.

 

_Harry, old chum!_

_Excellent work on the prank with the Dementors. No idea how you did it but we, the fabulous Gred and Forge, know you knew it was going to happen._

_Here’s something we picked up from Filch’s office our first year. Put your wand against it and say “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” and enjoy the wonders of the Marauders! To hide it from boring old stuffs like Snape say “Mischief Managed.”_

_Don’t worry about giving it back. We’ve memorised all the hidden paths and have our own ways to sneak._

_G &F_

 

Harry gave it a try and couldn’t stop himself chuckling at seeing ‘Arthur Weasley’ standing in the hallway leading to the Infirmary as well as some names he didn’t recognise. _Aurors_ , he guessed.

 

Putting the map away, he double-checked Pomfrey was still out of earshot and whispered out to Dobby. The elf appeared in his ninja outfit, completely with Avada green slash and shrunken cooking objects to use as weapons.

 

“Dobby, I need you to take the picture of a grim from my mind,” Sal told him, leaning lower so it was easier for the elf to look him in the eyes and into a specific memory from the Quidditch match. “Find the grim, my friend. If it’s an Animagus as I suspect, put him in the Chamber and make sure he is fed and given healing potions but can’t escape. And make sure he doesn’t hurt Esmeralda.”

 

The snake had spent most of her time in the rebuilt Chamber rather than in Gryffindor tower. The school believed she was left outside to hunt and sleep while only the Founders knew where she was and that her link to Salazar allowed her to manipulate the castle’s hidden pathways to get anywhere she needed. Dobby smacked his gloved hands together, bowed to his Master Harazar, and vanished without a sound. Harry merely snorted and closed his eye to meditate. He had plans upon plans and each one needed their own focus.

 

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.

OoOoO

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_8 th November 1993_

 

Neville Longbottom had not been idle once his great-uncle ran off to do whatever it was the Unspeakables thought they could get away with in his school. He had pulled the battle-axe Augusta into the Longbottom office, activated the room’s security spells, and spent hours explaining the entire situation to his grandmother. The only reason she ultimately believed him was he knew Longbottom family secrets which only the Head and their spouse could know.

 

While it made the sixty-five-year-old feel better that her public dressing down had been by _the_ Lord Slytherin rather than a child the same physical age as her grandson, the news about the potential dangers aimed at their family lit a fire in the witch that hadn’t been seen since the attack on Frank and Alice and she swore to do everything she could to aid him and his friends. Neville had been about to leave her to reawaken Longbottom alliances when she asked why he was so sure danger was coming. His answer had sent a chill through her.

 

“The man Slytherin House attempts to emulate in being cool, calm, and an expert at working from the shadows has stepped into the light and deliberately brings attention to himself. There’s only one reason Harry _or_ Salazar would do that.”

 

After hearing a handful of Godric’s stories, Augusta could only nod as she paled. The Snake had been angered and its family threatened.

 

Neville was only supposed to be away from Hogwarts for the day, returning early on Sunday to give him time to recover from seeing his parents’ back among the mentally capable. The reborn Founder made a detour to Diagon Alley, determined steps leading him from the central Apparition point to Gringotts Bank. Augusta had brought him to keep up appearances and was heading to her favourite tea and biscuits shop to meet up with some old friends and allies.

 

The goblin guards standing out front were new but not unexpected with Neville knowing his brother had been Awaken since before the summer. They armoured goblins shuffled as they watched the warrior in a boy’s body coming towards them. All goblins had heard of the return of the Snake Lord and eagerly waited for the return of the one they considered the true magical King of the land. They shared a look and one nodded, the other vanishing deep into the bank’s depths in case that day had finally come.

 

Neville merely nodded to the remaining guard without breaking stride and walked into the bank as though he owned it, heading straight to the door at the back of the main hall. A door that was guarded by a heavily armoured goblin who sneered at the approaching wizard. Neville didn’t stop moving until he was in the goblin’s personal space and lowed his head to the guard until they were as close to nose-to-nose as possible given the height difference. The actions had shocked the guard enough for the human to be able to begin growling before he could react.

 

While some magicals understood that goblins were as much a warrior culture as they were anything else, almost none truly knew their ways unless the Nation allowed them to be shared. Salazar Slytherin might be Friend and Ally to the Nation, but Godric Gryffindor was Brother. He had bled and made bleed side-by-side with the goblins as they fought for equality during the rise of the second Camelot, put his life on the life to save their King, and had received a blade that was so much more in honour of his actions. While the goblins might plot, plan, scheme and laugh with Salazar, they would go to war and die for Godric.

 

The goblin guard instinctively growled back, the dominance ritual as old as time between goblins who had never met. Godric’s vicious grin on the youthful Neville’s face was disturbing, even to the guard, and he growled louder and deeper in response. Their eyes remained locked, sizing each other up as foe, friend, or food, and the goblin mannerisms coming from the young wizard was unnerving to the guard. The goblin felt as though he was staring into the eyes of a Firestone who had gone too long without shedding blood. The guard had developed a twitch in his right eye and a shake in the left hand by the time the door behind him opened to reveal the very group Neville was attempting to see.

 

 ** _“Really, Lord Gryffindor?”_** Ragnuk sighed, speaking their language in case this strange boy who was best friends with the Snake Lord was somehow _not_ the reborn Lion King. **_“Did you plan to have_ all _of my guards submit before you got to my office?”_**

 

Neville’s grin simply grew at the Clan Chief’s words and the guard whimpered when he realised who he had been clashing wills with, quickly breaking the staring contest and proving himself lesser than the legend in front of him.

 

“Just having some fun, Account Manager,” Neville chuckled, using entirely the wrong title in case of any nosy magicals. “I wanted to check with you over the plans of our mutual friend and then pop down to see Leo.”

 

Ragnuk once again sighed and waved him through, the personal protection parting instantly as Neville stepped around the sweating goblin and entered the hallway. The strange group moved in silent until they got to Ragnuk’s office where Neville asked the most pressing question. “You have Dragon’s Blood for us to drink?”

 

The two ignored the sound of one of the guard stumbling into position against the wall at the request. Ragnuk the Third simply opened one of his desk drawers to pull out a bottle of neon green liquid. He was beginning to see that his grandfather’s stories of the male Founders were not exaggerated as he had once thought. “Are you sure your young body can handle this?”

 

The question didn’t stop the Clan Chief from pouring out two large glasses of the potent drink. It was pure dragon’s blood and ethanol, a drink whose fumes could send the weak into a drunken stupor and was exceptionally poisonous when not filtered. Neville shrugged as he took the glass and smacking it against Ragnuk’s, their drinks spilling onto the desk to create more scorch marks.

 

“I’ll use my magic to burn it away until this body can stand the stuff,” he explained before downing the entire glass in five huge gulps, his body quickly glowing as his Awakened magic worked desperately to keep him from killing himself. The guards stared eyes-wide at the human who should have self-combusted after the third gulp. Ragnuk had followed his actions and two empty glasses smashed onto the desk hard enough to shatter their bottoms. Both stared at the glasses to make sure the bottoms had truly broken and then nodded. If either one had not broken, then it meant they were too intoxicated to continue a business meeting. Neville leaned back in his chair and all the playfulness vanished from his gaze. “I’d like to know what my brother is up to, what his plans are that he’s shared with you, and where I can help.”

 

The young Lord had to prove his identity and that was as simple as bleeding into a bowl Ragnuk snapped off the enchanted chain on his wrist and Neville reciting the oath to reveal the Gryffindor ring. The familiar weight of the thick gold band with his central square ruby surrounded by smaller red gems eased his body of a tension had hadn’t known he was feeling. The old insecurities had apparently bled over to where a small part of him didn’t believe he was Godric even with the knowledge and attitude.

 

Neville heard about everything his family was doing. The correspondences Helga had opened with Europe made perfect sense and he made a mental note to get his Gran to do the same. House Longbottom had a long reach. The Horcrux hunt and how many had already been destroyed was a shock to Godric who growled at the crimes against nature.

 

“I fully trust in the skills of the Nation, Ragnuk,” he told the goblin. “But if you ever need the aid of either Rowena or Helga, send the request to me. I am not quite so… obsessive in the need to protect our ladies as Sal is.”

 

Ragnuk nodded at the offer but said no more. One knew by tale and the other by experience the lengths Salazar would go to protect those he loved. They discussed the actions of Dumbledore and Harry’s seeming obsession with the man who had his own obsession with controlling Harry. Godric’s gut twisted at that, warning him something was very, very wrong in the whole mess.

 

“My friend, please tell me the Nation still has the hidden paths to Avalon.”

 

“And the ones to the original Camelot, my lord,” Ragnuk answered, stilling at what was being asked.

 

“Good. I request the people set up an emergency system to get all non-army into those paths at a moment’s notice.”

 

“You believe the threat could be that large?”

 

“I’m afraid so. Morgana’s vision only told us that a child of Merlin would bring the world to the brink of darkness and destroy our bloodlines if we didn’t put in protections. We both know that those who followed Ambrosius seemed to find themselves in places of power. If you have such measures in place, then the elders and children are safe and protected by the warriors not part of the Nation’s army.”

 

“So even if we die in battle, our people will not be left defenceless,” Ragnuk finished the grave thought, getting a nod from Neville. “I will send word to our dwarva brethren. They will open their Thaigs if we so need and may even offer some warriors if they hear of your return.”

 

The dwarfs and goblins were sister races and ever few generations could see a baby born who was more like the other race than their own. While one looked more human, it was the goblins who had a more equal social structure rather than the rigidity of their dwarva cousins. It had been the Founders and their desire to eventually have both races and more learning at Hogwarts that had opened the doors to the two races speaking together after some long, not-forgotten but never talked about, incident. Godric was glad to hear that the two races were close enough where the possibility of aid was not scoffed at.

 

“Do what you must to protect your people, Ragnuk. And if war comes, more bodies to make our enemies bleed will not be unwanted.”

 

Ragnuk flashed his sharp, pointed teeth at the comment.

 

Neville was taken down to the deepest vaults and shook his head as he crossed the stone bridge, snorting with amusement that his brother had Spike travel up to the school. He took the path that led to Godric’s personal vault and allowed the Awakened magic to cause a visible aura, sending it forward in waves to the growling creature ahead. The beast paused, tilted its head to the side and then pounced, racing at Neville in all its dangerous glory.

 

“Leo!” The Founder called out in delight, arms open wide as the Nemean Lion practically jumped into them.

 

The beast’s natural form was huge, easily ten foot, but the magic of the species allowed the feline to resize himself as he saw fit. The animal that finally collapsed inside Neville’s arms to play some rough and tumble was the size of an adolescent lion, large enough to give the teenager a challenge in their game but not enough where the lion’s human couldn’t win. Joyous laughter filled the tunnel as the two played with each other until Neville was laying on the ground with a much smaller Leo laying on his chest. “So, kid, what do you say about coming to Hogwarts with me to see the others?”

 

Leo’s response was to flop on his side and nuzzle wildly at Godric’s hand, the loud purr making him laugh again at the far too familiar action.

 

.

.

OoOoO

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.

 

_Hogsmeade_

 

Neville came out of the Three Broomsticks Floo with a hissing and complaining Leo in hand only to get pulled into an extremely surprising hug by the owner of the bar. It took a while for him to understand Rosmerta’s fussing but he eventually understood that she was telling him something major had happened with the Dementors and that she was happy to see him unhurt. He made a mental note to send a letter to his parents over a potential friendship between them and the older woman that he had never heard of.

 

She wouldn’t let him go to Hogwarts on his own and made sure to grab the attention of the nearest Auror to act as a chaperone. The initial irritation at what she was asking vanished the moment the man realised it was _Frank and Alice’s_ son and he easily agreed. It was Neville’s first sign of the type of respect his parents had in the Auror Corps.

 

“Your friend Harry Potter is fine but being treated in the Hospital Wing,” the man told him as the two walked towards the school. “And I’m sure you’ll hear all about it once we get you there.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Godric answered with a nod, eying the ground to find the spot where they would pass into Hogwarts proper.

 

While the lands of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry encompassed the entirety of Hogsmeade village, there were actually three boundary lines, each with its own level of protection and warnings. The second was midway between the start of the village and the main gates of the school, somewhat marked by the later built Shrieking Shack that sat on top of the line. The Founder was waiting for the moment he crossed the line.

 

“Mister Longbottom,” the Auror’s tone changed sombre and Neville gave the man his full attention as was fitting. “Us of a certain age don’t go to St. Mungo’s but never think we don’t think about your parents. We hold vigils and remembrances for all of those from the war.”

 

Neville swallowed hard, his throat drying. He had never heard of this, but some clear thinking had him realise that there wasn’t any chance of him finding out before now.

 

“Thank you, sir,” he nodded to the man, knowing the information was being given to show that his parents hadn’t been abandoned. “It’ll be announced in the _Prophet_ tomorrow but Lord Slytherin found a way to wake them up. They’ve been taken back home if you want to spread the word.”

 

The Auror stumbled at what he heard and there was a suspiciously moist glint in his eyes.

 

“Lad,” he croaked out, the bland accent shifted to the man’s native speech patterns. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in years. Don’t ya worry none, me ‘n the boys’ll make sure ye fam’ don’t be gettin’ pestered none.”

 

The news of the Longbottoms’ recover mixed with and the Auror Bill both happening at the hands of Lord Slytherin would do more to turn around Salazar’s name within the DMLE than anything else. Personal alliances would be questions and examined in how they affected the man who had given the Aurors two of their own back.

 

The Auror was highly trained and his good mood was quickly pushed aside as they crossed the line Neville had been waiting for. The sound of joyous bells rang out from every direction and could be heard from every point in the school or in Hogsmeade. Hogwarts had created the alarm herself to celebrate whenever the four were back home and it was a sound that had filled those living during the early years of the school with hope and peace.

 

The Auror took hold of Neville’s arm and rushed them to the school’s gates flung open at their approach. Godric tasted blood as how hard he was biting his cheek to keep the laughter from spilling out. He was commanded to get into the school as Aurors, Hit Wizards and even an Unspeakable appeared and began to find out what was happening. The latter silently watched his great-nephew from his grey hood and suspected he knew exactly what was going on.

 

Neville patted the stone walls as he made his way to the Hospital wing to find a grinning trio of Harry, Hermione, and Luna staring expectedly at the door. the vibrant green eyes of his brother dropped down to look at the Crookshanks sized Leo and the Lord Slytherin snorted, shaking his head.

 

“Well, you’ve got yours!” Godric declared as he sank into the seat between the two girls and gave them powerful hugs that said everything that couldn’t be spoken aloud. Leo had immediately jumped onto Sal’s bed to gnaw at the boy’s toes.

 

The quartet spent hours talking, catching him up on the match and its fall out before moving on to everything and anything not related to plots for taking over the world or battling shadowy evils. It was a day spent for a family to bond and heal after so long without each other.

 

.

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OoOoO

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_Headmaster’s Office_

 

“What the hell is going on, Albus?” McGonagall demanded. The bells had finally stopped ringing, and no one knew what had started them up to begin with. Although plenty of people had seen numerous portraits dancing from frame to frame. The Sorting Hat was currently singing a translated Viking raiding song that involved descriptions of pillage, wenches, and copious amounts of drunken escapades. Not even a Silencing Charm from the Elder Wand had managed to do anything but lower the volume of Sebastian’s voice.

 

“I don’t know,” the current Headmaster answered, his head still aching from what happened the previous day.

 

“How am I supposed to brew potions with only one arm!” Snape roared.

 

The current Potions Professor was pacing wildly behind the sitting McGonagall in a fury. Every minute or so he would send some Dark spell at Sebastian only for the spell to somehow act as a _Finite_ to the Silencing Charm, causing Dumbledore to then recast that and glare at the Elder Wand for somehow betraying him.

 

“I don’t know, Severus.”

 

“Have you any idea what happened yesterday?” McGonagall tried.

 

“No, not really,” but he did know it had ripped apart the connection he had created with the Heartstone. The reason for his headaches and weakness was that he was no longer being fed the school’s power and the Heartstone was refusing to allow him to remake the link. If his body lost too much power without the link, then he would have to investigate using rituals to make sure he was at the power he needed to be.

 

“Well, what are you going to do about Potter?” Snape snarled, his stump flailing about as he attempted to gesture with the missing limb. “You know he had something to do with this!”

 

“No, I _don’t_ know that, Severus. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what Peverell is playing at, and I don’t know how he and Harry met!”

 

The brutal admission hung in the air until Sebastian moved onto his next song. “DAY-O, DAY-O, daylight come and me wanna go home!”

 

“ _Silencio!”_ Dumbledore snarled out, flinging the spell at the Hat as though he was Voldemort using a Killing Curse. The headmaster slammed the powerful wand down onto the table and sat in a huff, glaring at his two lieutenants.

 

The rage in Dumbledore’s eyes stopped anything Snape was about to sneer out. He silently sat to make sure this Master didn’t begin torturing him the way the previous one had a liking to.

 

“Perhaps,” McGonagall carefully suggested. “We should focus on what we do know. Or at least suspect.”

 

“Agreed,” Dumbledore sighed, once more rubbing his temples. “The wards have been acting strange since the Dementors came and Merlin’s journals make a mention to them being especially bad to the bloodlines. It is highly likely that one of the Founders created such a ward in case the Ministry realised their evil natures and attempted to use the Dementors as an attacking force.”

 

“When you say they’re bad to the bloodlines…”

 

“Yes, Severus, Sirius Black along with Bellatrix Lestrange if you cared, would have suffered two or three times more than any of the other Azkaban prisoners.”

 

The sheer glee radiating from Snape began to churn Minerva’s stomach, but the Deputy Head kept her counsel on the man’s disgraceful personality. Albus had already promised her that it would be her wand that ended the man who had pushed the wonderful Lily Evans into marrying Potter and so making her favourite student an innocent victim in their cause. “You think the ward had been activated even then?”

 

“Perhaps, Minerva, perhaps,” he nodded. “We all saw that it was raw magic it used rather than the refined magic we are used to, and we know that can be as dangerous as Fiendfyre. I would guess that it took these months to gain enough energy to target the Dementors without harming anyone.”

 

A growl came from the one-armed man and Dumbledore sent him an apologetic look. “I believe, Severus, that there is a link between what happened with your arm and Mister Potter. It was your Dark Mark that was affected, and we know that young Harry is a Horcrux. They both have the same thing in common.”

 

“The Dark Lord,” Snape ground out through his teeth.

 

“Why would a Hogwarts ward hurt something linked to a _Slytherin_?” McGonagall asked, spitting out the disgusting name.

 

“For the same reason young Tom was unable to gain the Slytherin Lordship. If the Lordship ring rejected Tom’s attempts to claim it and we suspect the ward that reacted to the Dementors was created by a Founder, then we can assume it was Salazar who made the ward. A ward that tried to also eliminate one of his blood that it must seem as unworthy.”

 

“What kind of Dark Wizard would reject You-Know-Who as a possible successor?” she shivered, eyes widening. “What kind of man turns around and says that _he_ isn’t evil enough to be Lord of their House?”

 

“A dangerous and deadly one,” Dumbledore sighed, trying to remember what it was that his mind was telling him he had forgotten. “And one we can all be glad is long since dead.”

 

“And what of the man using his name?” Snape demanded to know. The other two didn’t notice anything about his attitude but behind Snape’s protective mind shields was percolating a plan to leave Hogwarts. What use was Dumbledore if the man didn’t have the answers to keep Snape safe? Especially as Pomfrey had confessed the arm could never be regrown due to the taint of Dark Magic in the wound.

 

“That is another conundrum,” Dumbledore hummed, bridging his fingers together to consider the situation. “Everyone was expecting him to make a grand splash in the October session yet he only asked questions.”

 

“What kind of questions?” McGonagall asked. This was something they hadn’t fully spoken about considering the Sirius Black issue leading up to Halloween.

 

“ _Every_ possible question, Minerva. He even got to the point of asking what spell was being used to measure the thickness of cauldron bottoms and if the department used a second method to validate the findings.”

 

The two teachers blinked at the information and it was the Half-blood who had lived a Muggle childhood that realised the plan behind the insanity.

 

“Critical thinking,” Snape gasped, cursing the fact he hadn’t been told sooner. The other two stared idiotically at him. “Ancient Greek Muggle philosophy that is taught to Muggles even now. It boils down to one thing; Question Everything, _especially_ that which you are so sure is right. This ‘Sal’ is trying to teach the Wizengamot question their entire beliefs, no doubt including their belief in you, Headmaster.”

 

McGonagall gasped and raised a hand to her throat in horror. “Albus, surely not.”

 

“I believe Severus might be on to something,” Dumbledore’s blue eyes narrowed as Snape went into as much detail as the man could remember of the concept. “Yes, it appears as though that is exactly what this masquerading Lord Peverell is doing. All it would take is the wrong person to begin questioning me for things to become difficult.”

 

“He must be stopped,” she declared as though it wasn’t already part of their plans. “He has no right to do such a thing to you!”

 

A gleeful Sebastian grinned as he listened in on the meeting, delighted that the chaos of the weekend meant the old fool had forgotten to put up his security spells. He might not be able to gain everything he needed, but there would be enough to aid his makers. A watching Fawkes, originally called Sparky, simply waited until the man who he had saved from a terrible curse came to re-establish their friendship. He only hoped the blasted griffon wouldn’t be woken up any time soon.

 

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OoOoO


	11. Best Laid Plans of Rats and Snakes II

**AN:  
**

**It has been (kindly) pointed out that the Marauder Map made an appearance in the first chapter. What I somehow failed to make clear was that Harry didn’t keep the item but used masking Charms and had it given back. Mea Culpa.**

**There is a poll on my fanfiction profile page asking over what you’d like to see for Rebirth’s Tri-Wizard experience.  
**

 

**Not entirely happy with this chapter. I feel like there are plenty of roads it could have gone down and I ended up middling all the options.**

**Key:**

“Words”

_Thoughts / “emphasis” / Title of Books or spells used_

_~~Parseltongue~~_

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

**_“Magical language”_ **

 

Best Laid Plans of Rats and Snakes

 

_8 th November 1993_

 

It was through the offering of love, devotion, and eternal enslavement to the High Priestess Pomfrey that allowed Harry to get to the Great Hall for breakfast. That and a promise to take it easy with magic outside of class and to see her at the end of the day to reassess his shoulders. Whatever reaction Harry had expected when the school would see him since the match, it was nothing like he got.

 

His arrival for breakfast went completely ignored. A full Great Hall had no interested in the appearance of the Boy-Who-Lived as everyone was staring at another Gryffindor in that horrific ‘I can’t look away’ mouth agape look. Sal’s eyes met those of his brother across the room and both thought the same thing.

 

_Here we go again._

 

Hermione Granger, the student at the top of the rankings for their year group and the most mis-Sorted Ravenclaw there had ever been, was currently explaining what each piece of breakfast food was and what it tasted like only to then cut up a piece and feed it to the eagerly waiting Leo. Sal considered running away but ultimately decided to bravely walk into the insanity.

 

“Won’t Crookshanks get jealous?” He asked as he was getting seated across from the slightly insane woman. Harry couldn’t even glare at the feline the size of a large kitten since he knew it wasn’t Leo’s fault. But he did make sure to ignore its disturbing smirk.

 

“Pffft,” Helga’s articulate replay came with a lazy wave of the hand as she gave Leo some dry cereal. “Crooks knows where his best food comes from.”

 

Harry and Neville shared glances as Luna’s giggles broke out from her failed self-cast silencing charm. There was really no talking to their friend when she was like this.

 

The sound of McGonagall’s steps was loud as people continued to watch the broom-wreck of Helga Hufflepuff around an animal she had fallen in love with. “Miss Granger, the rules are very clear. You can’t have two cats unless one is your familiar.”

 

The cat Animagus took a startled step back when Hermione and Leo looked up in stereo and hissed at their Head of House. Hermione’s hair even briefly flattened to mimic Leo’s ears dropping back.

 

“He’s mine, Professor,” Neville quickly announced before things escalated. “Hermione is just… looking after Leo for me.”

 

Cue Luna collapsing off her seat, drawing blood from her lip from biting it so hard from holding in the laughter.

 

“Don’t worry, I left Trevor at home,” he continued before the Professor could bring up his infamous pet. “He’s being a good guard-toad right now.”

 

“And what is it Trevor needs to be guarding?” She said, not realising exactly what she had just asked the boy.

 

Minerva had just been sworn at by a student in Cat-speak and from a pet possessing the most atrocious Latin accent she had ever heard. That the cat in question knew she was Scottish and was decrying her poor stock made it somewhat difficult for the usually put together Deputy Headmistress to remain focused. She never noticed the sound of wings fluttering until the post owls entered her line of sight and the familiar form of Hedwig perched herself on Harry’s shoulder.

 

“My parents, Professor,” Neville beamed, just as an inarticulate gurgling scream of _some_ emotion came from Snape when the man saw the _Prophet’s_ headline. “Lord Slytherin not only managed to wake them up but they’re now on a special potion regimen that will make them better than ever.”

 

“I still say there’s something wrong with the man,” Harry mused, watching the one-armed Snape stumbling out of the Great Hall through one of the side doors. It would be the last time Snape was seen in the school as a member of staff. “He’s a Master Occlumens yet he can’t hold his emotions in check. It’s simply not the done thing.”

 

It was a shell-shocked McGonagall who left the quartet as Dumbledore gaped like a village idiot at the paper. With something new to catch their attention, the students of Hogwarts eagerly discussed the new article, the noise of their excited gossiping hiding the fact that Hermione was now reading the paper to Leo while Hedwig had chosen to do the same to her human. Harry merely accepted the hoots and parks and listened as the owl threw out her own opinions on everything.

 

The entire day saw Sebastian bouncing on the shelf he occupied while Cassie’s magic swirled and sang through every stone in delight from having her parents back together.

 

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OoOoO

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Harry had pulled Luna aside before they went their separate ways to show her the Marauder’s Map. The original Ravenclaw immediately saw the potential and threat of such an item and promised to work on improving and duplicating the heirloom. Sal didn’t have the heart to warn her about the complete mess of Charms layered into the parchment that had half of the spells cancelling parts of the other half out. He decided to let her find that gem out on her own.

 

The Founders had never needed such an object in their time. Their personal quarters held true maps of Hogwarts that included up to date information on all the hidden tunnels as well as the state of the wards, but they had not thought to include where people within the school were. Their link to Cassie could tell them the same information.

 

Potions was a complete nonstarter with Snape not showing up and a check with the wards announced that the bastard had left the school with his personal quarters striped bare. Harry got a nod from Hermione and knew she’d slip him the time-turner before the end of the day to allow Sal Slytherin to take the Potions Professor position by morning. The non-class had one curious thing in that Draco Malfoy keep looking between a crumbled letter and Harry with the most peculiar look in his grey eyes.

 

If Sal was being generous, he’d say the boy actually looked like he was _thinking_!

 

This conclusion was borne out by the double elbows the blond received from Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott as the class made to leave the room once the end of lesson bell had sounded. No one outside of Ron Weasley had suggested they leave before then even with no Snape turning up. They weren’t that foolish.

 

“Heir Potter,” Malfoy coughed, stepping into Harry’s path with the other two Slytherins behind him. Hermione and Neville immediately mirrored their positions. “I request a meeting between us under a banner of peace.”

 

“We’ve still got a full day’s schedule, Heir Malfoy,” Harry smoothly answered, not bothering telling the nervous boy that he was Lord Potter. “There’s a Duelling Club room not far from Professor Flitwick’s office. Why don’t the three of you meet us there say six? I’ll inform Flitwick it’s House business and he’ll cover us for our Astrology lessons. That’s four hours for us to hash out anything that needs to be said before curfew.”

 

The trio looked startled at his immediate acceptance and it was Nott who voiced one of their questions. “You’re inviting us?”

 

“You two are friends of Heir Malfoy,” Harry answered, keeping to the formal tone as was the right thing to do. While they were standing in the position of simple backup, their body languages were screaming loyalty regardless of their cool personas. “And I get the impression it will be easier for him to speak with you there.”

 

“And will Heir Longbottom and Miss Granger be there as well?” Blaise asked.

 

¬¬ Just how close is your mother to the main branch of House Innocenti, Heir Zabini? ¬¬ Sal returned in perfect, if slightly old-fashioned Italian. The dark-skinned boy blinked at the question and his widening of eyes was enough to give the answer. Which mean Blaise understood the links between Sal’s Houses and Neville.

 

“Then yes, the six of us will be there under a banner of peace. I’ll request Charms Master Flitwick to go through the room to remove any potential spells and cover it in privacy Charms before we enter. Is that good for you, Heir Malfoy, son of Daughter of Black?”

 

If Harry’s attitude had surprised the Slytherin trio, it was nothing compared to his remark linking Draco’s actions and his mother’s House. The blond could only thank Harry in a quick stammer before rushing out of the room with Nott and Zabini following.

 

“How did you know?” Hermione asked, holding Leo as they waited a polite amount of time before heading towards their next class.

 

“Draco’s attitude was pure Lucius before October,” Neville answered easily. “Yet Harry smacks him down for disgracing his family name and he spends the entire month getting letters from the same raven that delivers his home-made sweets. He’s been asking Lady Narcissa for advice.”

 

Harry merely nodded at his brother’s answer and then smirked. “And I caught her signature on the letter he was holding.”

 

The new and improved Hermione shocked her classmates once more when the fourth lesson came around and Professor McGonagall flat out refused to let her bring Leo to class. Hermione Granger, the woman’s best student, _pouted_ and held up the cat as though asking the Transfiguration Professor how she could refuse such an adorable animal. McGonagall was unable to explain that the animal in question had moved on from badmouthing the fact she was Scottish and was now proclaiming how she wouldn’t know the first thing about being a feline no matter what her Animagus form took. And was giving graphic details on the joys and pitfalls of feline sex.

 

No one understood why McGonagall spluttered, got red in the cheeks, and ultimately threatened to give anyone who brought the purring and cutely meowing cat into her room a year’s detention and docked any House Points they received for the remainder of their time at Hogwarts.

 

Hermione was forced to leave Leo outside while Neville frowned at the closed door, wondering what sort of mischief his familiar was getting up to without him knowing. Harry, knowing the chaos his own familiars could cause, mentally smirked and remembered he had been attempting to find a way of creating a feline version of Parseltongue and Parsel Magic. _Might need to get that restarted sooner rather than later_.

 

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OoOoO

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“Was she always like that?” The half-goblin Professor asked when Harry tracked him down after Transfiguration, thankfully finding the man in his office rather than having lunch elsewhere. The reborn Slytherin didn’t need to ask who the question was about.

 

“Almost from the beginning,” he chuckled, thinking back to the time two twenty-something men had been given three young teenage girls to look after. “Rowena and Morgana liked animals well enough, but Helga was from a small village and had grown up among the livestock before her magic revealed itself. When Ignotus rescued them from Uther’s forces after they destroyed the Grymm Coven, Helga used her love of animals as a healing aid. “

 

“Is the age difference why you and she never…?” Sal’s eyes snapped to the Flitwick’s, demanding answers to the man’s knowledge. “How you and Godric accepted Mates that were not those you wanted is still spoken about as an example of how to honour contracts no matter personal feelings.”

 

“Godric and I fell in love with the girls, but he already had the contract with Astrid Longbottom and I refused to act until Helga had healed. By that time, I saved Belladonna Innocenti’s life and it became too late.”

 

“Forgive an old goblin for bringing up bad memories.”

 

Harry waved the man’s concerns away even though his eyes had turned hard at the subject. “We did our duty, Professor. It’s what this time has forgotten about us, me especially. We had duties to perform and did them for those who couldn’t aid themselves. Regardless of my personal pain, I would change almost nothing about my life.”

 

Filius Flitwick was wise enough not to ask about the ‘almost’ part of the statement. “What is it that has you seeking me out today?”

 

“Two things, Charms Master,” Harry answered, his dark mood fading as he focused on the here and now. “Luna and I would like you to sponsor a Defence club for us to aid our fellow students. No one bothered to teach anyone here how to cast a Patronus while the Dementors gave everyone nightmares so that’s going to be the first lesson.”

 

Flitwick didn’t bother asking one of _the_ famous educators if he was sure on teaching young students how to cast such a powerful Charm. “I wanted to, but I was overruled by the Headmaster. Why haven’t you gone to Professor Lupin about this? He _is_ teaching DADA this year.”

 

“This year,” Harry scoffed. “Besides, this way it lets you throw in some Duelling practice.”

 

The two shared a smirk at the point only for the Charms Professor to frown. “You not asking Professor Lupin wouldn’t have anything to do with his condition, would it?”

 

Because Flitwick was not going to be stupid enough to think Salazar Slytherin hadn’t worked out the man was a werewolf. Harry was shaking his bead before the question was even finished.

 

“No, it’s got to do with the fact the man was a known close friend of my father yet hasn’t even told me he knew the Potters socially. Let alone on such a personal level that James Potter et al would become Animagi to keep the sod company on the full moon.”

 

Flitwick frowned at what he was hearing. While he had been able to tell Harry some stories of Lily Evans, the Marauders were not students he had known outside of classes nor did he know anything about their extra-curricular activities. In fact, most of Harry’s learning about his father and the Marauders came from late night conversations with Sebastian and those were limited to fragments and not complete tales. If Lupin had not even approached his best friend’s son, then Filius could understand why the boy wouldn’t go to him.

 

“Very well, I accept. I’ll need a study plan for what you and Miss Lovegood are planning on teaching. What of the second thing?”

 

“Heir Draco Malfoy has requested a banner of peace meeting between us and some associates. I would like you to perform spells on the Duelling Club’s meeting room to prove it’s a safe neutral ground, cast the requisite security spells, and cover us for Professor Sinistra this evening.”

 

The half-goblin couldn’t agree to the request fast enough.

 

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OoOoO

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_That evening_

 

The mostly forgotten Duelling Club room had been swept clean and security charmed by the eager Flitwick who then set himself up in a corner with some marking. When given a look by the three students, the half-goblin merely smirked back.

 

“I won’t hear what is being said and I won’t be able to read your lips, but if you think I’m leaving the leaders of Gryffindor and Slytherin alone in a room without adult supervision, you’ve been at Hagrid’s ale reserves.”

 

Neither side argued that they weren’t leaders of their respective Houses nor that the Professor didn’t have a point. Harry sat and stared at his somewhat rival and waited, arms lazily folded to as he leant back in the chair. None noticed Harry’s finger flicking as he brought down the spells keeping Flitwick from hearing them. When Draco simply squirmed under the gaze, Harry turned to the dark-skinned Italian.

 

“Perhaps we should forget about how things are usually done in situations like these,” he suggested. “And one of you simply begins at the beginning?”

 

The three snakes shared looks and nodded. Blaise sighed at the way the other two obviously expected him to be the one who spoke.

 

“You three have to understand that there is no talking about before the war in Slytherin. The politics and actions of the Blood War have coloured Slytherin House more than the other three. We only learn what our parents wish us to know about the ‘before.’”

 

“And that can be highly censured,” Malfoy ground out, obviously angered at his own training. “All I was told about my family was how great my Father was and how powerful he had made our House. I know Theo’s father focuses on the Dark Lord’s goals and putting Mud…Muggle-borns in their place.”

 

The blond was forced to correct himself at the three glares and sniffed as though the looks didn’t scare him witless.

 

“And my mother has to teach me about our links to Innocenti so there are some things she simply has to ignore about the politics of here,” Zabini finished.

 

“So, when Harry brought up all that family history,” Neville said, leaning forward with a look of horror on his face. “You knew _nothing_ about it?”

 

“Nothing,” Draco snarled, his nostrils flaring in a good imitation of the creature he was named after. “My father took over my education when I turned six or seven. I can barely remember anything my mother taught me before that.”

 

“Bloody hell,” Harry huffed, not believing his ears. His head rolled back and stared at the ceiling in deep thought. “And you’ve been trying to get caught up through talking with your mother?”

 

He didn’t see Draco’s nod, but he heard the disgust in the boy’s voice. “Mother said that it was only the Malfoy history that their marriage happened. Her sister skipped out on the proposed contract to marry a… Muggle-born and left Mother to take it up.”

 

“Andromeda Black marrying Ted Tonks, right,” Neville nods, remembering his political history lessons from Augusta. “It was a scandal for the then current Black members because of the political climate but the real issue was that the marriage happened without the Lord Black’s say so. It’s not as though Blacks have never married below their station for love before. The man’s blood status wouldn’t have made difference once they found out the baby was a Metamorphmagus. Nymphadora Tonks, she was a seventh year when we started.”

 

“Wait, Nymph _a_ dora?” Sal laughed, almost falling off his chair at the name. He had been rocking back as he listened to everyone speak and hadn’t expected to hear that name.

 

“Yes, Harry, Nymphadora,” Neville answered with a smirk, knowing why Sal found it so amusing.

 

The three Slytherins were giving them blank looks and Sal shook his head in disgust. “Alright, quick recap time and a reason why knowing your family’s history is so damn important. Have the three of you heard of Most Ancient House of Grymm?”

 

“It disappeared around the time of the Founders,” Theo Nott answered, speaking up for the first time. History was his secret passion and he had always been curious about the disappearances of the older Houses.

 

“Malodora Grymm invented the first charmed mirror and would marry King Ecgberht in 803 at the ripe old age of sixteen,” Harry informed the non-Awakened members of the room. Only he caught the glint of excitement in Flitwick’s eyes that all Ravenclaws got when new knowledge was being learned. “She would give birth to Aethelwulf Grymm of Wessex, the father of Alfred the Great, and Alburga Grymm. Her younger sister by two years was Morianda Grymm and would be an ambassador to foreign magicals so the King of Wessex had some understanding of a world he wasn’t a part of. Yes, Draco, that means Malodora married a Muggle

 

“During one of Morianda’s interactions with a Greek Lord, she found herself pregnant. Nymph _o_ dora Grymm was born in 805 and was a true Metamorphmagus without any base form,” Harry’s speech had captivated the two on either side of Malfoy, but Draco was still sneering at the thought of a Grymm laying with a Muggle. “The reason this is highly important is that upon Ecgberht’s death, everyone bar Aethelwulf as he took the throne of Wessex returned to our world and back to the Grymm Coven, an enclave that taught magic and was the inspiration for Hogwarts. Nymphodora would live until 960 where she died in childbirth from a surprise Beltane pregnancy. The woman had made herself younger for Beltane but not for giving birth and her body couldn’t cope with having twins at that age. Twins that history would eventually come to call Morgana Le Fey and Rowena Ravenclaw.”

 

The Slytherins were captured by the story, as was Flitwick who was having to use all his skill to keep from revealing his thoughts and giving away the fact he was able to hear everything.

 

“The reason the Lord Black back then should not have cared about Andromeda’s actions once her child was born, regardless of who the father was, is that the daughter may just be able to take up the mantle of Le Fey, or at the very least reclaim the title of Grymm. Neither have a Daughter of House Black been able to claim since Rowena’s daughter Leda was blood adopted by Morgana the night before she married Wulfric the Black, a descendant of Alburga Grymm. You and I, Draco Malfoy, are descended from a Muggle King as well as both Ravenclaw and Le Fey. How’s that for the power of the Malfoy line?”

 

The history lesson might have been a bit harsh, but it got its point across. A pale Draco was gaping like a fish and the other two Slytherins weren’t doing much better. Neville took over the tag-teaming to keep the trio off balance.

 

“And that’s why Lady Narcissa was probably horrified to find out Lord Lucius had no interest in anything beyond his own actions. As a Child of House Black, you’ve got power in the Wizengamot even if the House’s current situation isn’t the best. But Lucius Malfoy has been using the Black’s power base for House Malfoy’s gains. That’s on the same level as the Headmaster trying to use the power of House Potter as his own.”

 

“Which he was and can no longer do,” Sal wickedly smirked.

 

“It’s true?” Blaise squeaked out, getting blank looks in return. The Slytherins looked like they were questioning everything they believed. “Dumbledore had illegally claimed the Potter seat?”

 

“Heir Zabini,” Sal drawled, and to Draco’s ears, the tone made a mockery of his Father’s way of speaking. _This_ was how it was supposed to be done. “Albus Dumbledore illegally took possession of the heir to a Noble and Most Ancient House, used his dual role of Headmaster and Chief Warlock to claim the House’s seat and political power, and then left said heir to languish for ten years not even knowing he was a wizard.”

 

The Slytherins were horrified and so many incidents over the past two years looked completely different with this information. Harry turned to Draco. “You were the first magical child I ever spoke to when we met in Madam Malkin’s, the Weasleys had to show me how to get on the Platform, and my jailors posing as relatives hadn’t even taught me Muggle social etiquette, let along me knowing the faux pas I made in not taking your offered hand regardless of if I was going to accept the friendship offer. And you can let this part of our conversation spread among the Snakes.”

 

Hermione and Neville scowled at the tale even if they had been told of their friend’s childhood. Both were furious that Sal had been forced to live such a life twice over and Hermione couldn’t bring herself to be that angry over how he got rid of the Dursleys. Extremely disappointed but not angry.

 

On the other hand, the Slytherins were putting a lot of pieces together and eyes were widening.

 

“Just how connected at you with this Lord Slytherin?” Theo demanded. Draco had yet to gain his mental equilibrium while Zabini carefully shuffled away from his friends. He preferred living to questioning that specific family, thank you very much.

 

“Come, Heir Nott, think it through. I go from what I was to this in the space of a summer and just so coincidentally a new Lord Slytherin and _Peverell_ appears in our world. I thought you were supposed to possess cunning?”

 

“Why are you telling us this?” Draco demanded only to get a green-eyed smirk in return.

 

“I have a better question,” Harry returned, staring straight at his cousin. “What is it you want from this meeting, Heir Malfoy?”

 

“Heir Longbottom is correct. Mother was furious at the fact I didn’t know my grandfather’s impact on our world,” Draco sighed, looking utterly disgusted with himself. “I was barely aware that my grandfather is still alive.”

 

“It’s rumoured Lord Lucius challenged him for the Malfoy ring,” Neville carefully said, watching the boy’s reaction. “Your House’s politics drastically changed once your father took over.”

 

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” came the answering shrug. “Father and Grandfather never stayed in the same room when I was growing up and I always had to tell Father what happened when he wasn’t there. I grew up idolising Father, he was my hero. Yet now I find out he stole his achievements. To use the Malfoy name and act as though _he_ was the only Malfoy who ever mattered, that goes against everything I was ever taught. Mother keeps suggesting I reach out to you. At first, I thought she was wanting me to follow that fool Dumbledore, but Blaise made me see what you’ve been doing since we came back to Hogwarts. And now knowing this...”

 

“A fresh start between two Houses who should already be working together,” Sal nodded, once more leaning back in his chair to think. He eyed the three boys wearing his colours and considered all the options. Something sparked at the back of his mind and his smirk grew. “Tell me something boys, how committed are you to your fathers’ ways? Would you rather be a follower of a Dark Lord or a King of the Wizengamot like there was in the past?”

 

“You’re nuts!” Neville snapped, eyes widening as he easily followed where his brother was going.

 

“It would work.”

 

“Well yeah, but you’re talking about bringing heat down quicker and bigger than we’d planned.”

 

 “Not bigger,” Harry corrected. “Different and spread out. Even the Kings were beaten when the attacks came. Four wasn’t enough to keep them safe, not from multiple fronts.”

 

Neville glanced at the quiet Hermione who was chewing her lip. She had quickly caught on to Sal’s idea and gave a slight nod in approval. Godric sighed heavily and gave a bigger one to Harry who turned back to Draco. “I repeat, Heir Malfoy, what is it you want?”

 

“I want to be a true Malfoy,” the boy snapped, almost biting off the metaphorical hand as he realised what was being asked. “I want to be what my Father pretends to be.”

 

“I still don’t understand why you’re sharing so much,” Nott frowned. Blaise was simply staring at Hermione as though begging the girl to prove it was all a dream.

 

“Because boys, when Lord Slytherin steps aside upon my majority, it isn’t only the Regency he hands over. You’re looking at the one true Slytherin.”

 

The stunned silence that followed his question had the Slytherin of Slytherins burst into slightly manic laughter.

 

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OoOoO

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Despite Harry’s question, the meeting would finish with little more than the trio getting to know each other. Harry met Draco’s brainwashing at the hands of Lucius and equalled it with details of his history at the Dursleys and the manipulations of Dumbledore. Neville added his own trouble with his Gran who got a match from Theo’s Death Eater father. Blaise and Hermione simply rolled eyes and shared amused smirks as the quartet shared their various war stories, both thinking about how Hufflepuff the meeting had become.

 

With the security spells in place, things were shared that wouldn’t have been. The Founders knew how much they could lay on the table, their news shocking the boys into sharing far more than they’d been trained to. It wouldn’t mean they’d all become friends, especially not in the public eye, but it opened a path of understanding between the six. Draco would learn more about the early years of House Malfoy in Britain than he ever thought he would.

 

When it came close to curfew, Draco asked Harry why the Gryffindor was willing to give him a chance. The smile he got in return had him wishing for the Dementors.

 

“Because I’ll destroy you if you betray me, Draco. Your Grandfather and ancestors’ ties to my family give you the right for a fresh start in making amends. But I won’t hesitate to end you if you dishonour that legacy now you’re aware of it.”

 

Draco was never surer of something in his life than he was at Potter’s words. The only thing keeping the young boy from having a panic attack was the security charms Flitwick had used meant no one from the room could accidentally betray the others over what they had learned. And while he didn’t want to work with Granger, he was more than happy to work with this new Potter and the political power he would wield. Betrayal would ruin his chances and disappoint his Mother, something the young man found he never wanted to do again after their exchange of letters.

 

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_Chamber of Secrets_

 

Hermione had given Harry her time-turner the moment they were alone, and Harry used it to spin back two hours. It was easy for him to then get to the Chamber and the waiting Animagus inside. Harry found a haggard man in prison garb half-dozing on a chair with a table full to the brim of mostly eaten Hogwarts food. He had no doubt that Dobby was making sure the potions were in the food or drink rather than trying to force the escaped Black to drink something he wouldn’t recognise.

 

“So, you’re the man who is supposed to have betrayed my family to Voldemort.”

 

Sirius Black jerked awake and crashed out of his chair at the voice. The man instinctively transformed back into his grim form before his brain caught up with the situation and he sheepish changed back. There was a fire in the grey eyes that hadn’t been diminished even with the exposure to Dementors, although that might just have been the Black Madness Sal knew had been inherited from the Grymms.

 

“Harry…” Sirius croaked, smiling for the first time in over a decade at the sight of his godson. “I didn’t do it, I swear. It was Pettigrew, he did it! He betrayed them!”

 

“I believe you,” Harry promised, conjuring a chair with such ease that he stopped the man’s ranting midbreath. “I assumed as much when the goblins told me you named me your heir.”

 

“Who else would I name?” this time the smile had a distinctively goofy hint to it as the man became lost in a memory. “James and I were like brothers. Lily had to threaten to ban me from seeing you to keep me from keep picking you up. I never worried about you being asleep when I wanted to see my little godson.”

 

Harry simply took in the ravaged man and his heart twisted at what they had lost.

 

“So, ah, where are we?” Sirius asked once he pulled himself back to the now.

 

“Slytherin’s hidden chamber beneath the school.”

 

Sirius’ good mood vanished as soon as it had arrived. “What are you doing in a place like this, Harry? You need to be careful of anything Slytherin, they’re all Dark and evil as they come. The lot we grew up with all became Death Eaters. Just look at that bastard Malfoy or Snivellus.”

 

Sal blinked at the rant and sighed, utterly disgusted with how his name had become twisted down the years. “All Slytherins are evil?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Dorea Black?” He asked, naming his grandmother. The same woman who had married Charlus Potter and sired James Potter, Sirius’ supposedly best friend.

 

“An exception, nothing more,” Sirius declared, looking like a four-year-old who had just proclaimed themselves future Astronauts.

 

“And I suppose all Gryffindors are good?”

 

“Of course!” he snapped, not even thinking his answer though.

 

“Peter Pettigrew,” Harry sighed, standing up from the chair. Sirius’ look of triumph collapsed into a morose pout. He stared at the man innocent of betraying his parents and briefly contemplated knocking the idiot out and dropping him off at the DMLE while making sure the rat Animagus he still had elf-frozen could never be found. The sheer venom Sirius Black felt against anything Slytherin was going to come back at Harry, he knew it. The temptation lasted for only a moment, but he ultimately just sighed and walked out of the Chamber. Family was everything to the Snake Lord and Harry would give Sirius a chance to get used to the reality of things.

 

He completely ignored the man’s desperate pleas for him to return. Pleas that only stopped when the Chamber’s inner door shut behind the Lord Slytherin.

 

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.

OoOoO

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_9 th November 1993_

 

The biggest problem with travelling through time when you know you’ll be seeing yourself is deciding which you to be first. Or it would have been if one version of Harry wasn’t going to have a boring day in class while another version got to teach again. He took his morphing potion to once again look like a mid-twenties Salazar, put on just the right clothes to make an impression and had Dobby pop him to the seventh floor so he could use the Many Room to Floo to Hogsmeade and walk back. A second Harry almost immediately appeared in the third-year dorm room as the time-loop fixed in place who was first. Thankfully there was no three-peat of the day since Sal didn’t know which option would have been third.

 

He strode through the village of Hogsmeade that had been built during the first decade of the school. His Ukrainian Ironbelly coat was blowing behind him and his clothes were expensive without being pretentious, showing his place in society without making him look like a flop and dandy once he got into the Potions lab. The Slytherin sword hung at his left hip as was its right and the old fool had no chance in getting him to take it off.

 

The gates opened by themselves, Cassi eager to have him openly back within her walls. There was a subtle humour in the wards as he stepped on the school’s grounds, and Sal smirked in the knowledge that his little girl was laughing at the prank. He patted her slightly warm stones as he moved through Hogwarts, heading immediately for Dumbledore’s office to inform the idiot of the change in teachers. All four of the Founders could walk through her walls with her eyes closed and never get lost, not even when they were wanting one of the rooms that changed positions.

 

Chip the Gargoyle happily moved aside for Sal and the Founder knuckle-knocked on the office door just to prove he could be polite. And then he stepped into the room without waiting for permission to show he didn’t need to be. Sal’s eyebrows raised when he found a somewhat annoyed looking Dumbledore meeting with a very flustered Cornelius Fudge and two Aurors. Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed when they fell on him, but Sal ignored that for now.

 

“Well, well,” he drawled, openly smirking at gate-crashing the meeting. “I’m not sure what I’m seeing here. Is the Minister seeking out aid from the Headmaster of Hogwarts, which should only happen if there’s a problem with the school itself, or are the Minister and Chief Warlock doing Ministry business on Hogwarts grounds? Because if that is the case, one wonders why the talk isn’t being held in the Ministry.”

 

“Good morning, Mr Peverell,” Dumbledore’s benign smile had Salazar’s skin crawling. It was a disconcerting feeling when mixed with the annoyance of the man ignoring his name and title. “I don’t believe I was expecting you.”

 

“Then you don’t know what’s going on in Hogwarts, Albus,” Sal retorted with an equal dismissal of protocol that had another slight pinching of the elder wizard’s eyes. “I was informed yesterday that your one-armed bandit had run for the hills. Apparently, the Longbottoms recovering was the last straw for the man.”

 

The nervous shifting of feet from the Aurors as they remembered he was the one who brought back two of their own was half the reason he reminded them of his actions. The interaction had lasted less than three minutes which meant the good Minister had gone without attention for too long.

 

“Watch yourself, whoever you are, or I’ll have you arrested. This is Ministry business.”

 

Salazar took a slow blink at the bowler-wearing overweight midget and turned to where he knew the only other sane person in the room sat. “Sebastian, was this man one of yours?”

 

“He wore green, Sal,” the Hat said answered and everyone heard the apology in its voice. “The idjit has the ambition to rule the world and the planning of a dead flobberworm. I can only guess he thinks you’re powerful enough to fool the magic of the Council.”

 

Sal questioned Fudge’s parentage in Parsel and got a perverse pleasure when four out of five humans shuddered at the hissing. “You know who I am. You tried having me arrested in the chambers and got smacked down by Lady Bones for thinking the Aurors were your personal army.”

 

The pointed look at the two Aurors had them shifting further back from the Minister. _I really need to open talks with Madam Bones_ , Sal reminded himself for the umpteenth time.

 

“And I’ll have you arrested if you keep disrespecting me. I’ve looked into your background and you don’t have one!”

 

Sal decided the man had never got beyond the mentality of a pre-Hogwarts Draco Malfoy. There was only one thing he could do with such a simpleton and that was to treat him accordingly.

 

“Whatever is going on, Albus, _do_ remember that Hogwarts is sovereign territory. While you might have the power to allow them to interfere with this school, I have the power to stop them. Aside from that, I’m merely here as a courtesy to let you know I’m now Potions Professor.”

 

“I have a replacement in the wings, Professor Peverell,” the Headmaster beamed, acting as though he was perfectly happy with the situation. Sal once again blinked as someone in power seemed to forget who he was. _Perhaps there’s an insanity curse on high positions in the Ministry,_ he considered. “You’ll only have to take the classes until Yule.”

 

“Here’s hoping this new one is an actual teaching this time, Brian,” Sal replied with his own meaningless smile. “I’m off to present myself to the ravenous horde.”

 

“Perhaps you can answer an old man’s curiosity before you go?” Dumbledore quickly said, and Sal’s bullshit meter shot into the stratosphere. “Cornelius came here under the belief Hogwarts had something to do with the demise of the Dementors.”

 

“Then it appears Cornelius actually has two brain cells to rub together and isn’t entirely stupid,” Sal answered, leaving the room before the incoherent mess that was the Minister could formulate a response.

 

Salazar found the Great Hall bustling with students and teachers and enjoyed the wave of silence that took it over. He glided down the middle of the hall and made sure all could hear his voice when he introduced himself to the staff with a bow. “Ladies, gentleman, Sal Slytherin at your service. I’ll be taking over the Potions classes until Yule.”

 

The Hall erupted behind him and he smirked at the reaction, getting an eye roll from Sprout and a smirk from Filius while both McGonagall and Lupin frowned.

 

“That was rather quick,” the Deputy Headmistress pointed out. “We only knew of Severus’ departure yesterday.”

 

“As I never had a doubt the man wouldn’t last the year, I made sure to keep an eye on my school for when she would need me.”

 

The old Scot frowned at his use of a possesses when talking about Hogwarts. Sal turned back to the important people in the Hall and the students hushed without him having to ask them.

 

“As there will likely be some questions, I’ll answer what I can here,” he told them, instinctively falling into his old habits. He stood at parade rest, eyes constantly moving across the listening crowd to catch anyone either not listening or looking as though they needed more, and his voice took on a steady beat that held attention. “My name is Lord Sal Slytherin-Peverell but to you, I am Professor Sal. I am taking over the role of Potions Professor since the sad excuse of a teacher you had until the weekend has done a runner. I am also closely related to the Founder of Hogwarts with the same name. I do not know who will take over as Head of House for the Snakes but as my door will be open to _all_ students and I can access the Slytherin Common Room through Parseltongue, I will make myself available to those in green if you need me.”

 

“Are you really a Parselmouth?” One brave Ravenclaw shouted. Sal sent her a reassuring smile when she started to wilt beneath the attention her question caused.

 

 _~~What do you think, Harry? Am I a Parselmouth?~~_ He asked his later self.

 

 _~~I think you’re a showman and a prankster,~~_ his future hissed back.

 

The other Founders rolled their eyes at his antics but both versions pointedly ignored their heathen senses of humour.

 

“A little bit of explaining about that ability,” he reverted to English with a sigh. The entire Hall bar a small handful had shivered with many shrieking at the hissing language. “Not all Parselmouths are of the Slytherin family, just like not all Slytherins are Parselmouths. The Slytherin Family Magic is a branch of Parsel Magic but Parselmouths and Parsel Magic have been around a lot longer than the Slytherin name. I am surprised those students of Indian heritage did not spread this information around last year as it’s a highly sort after talent in the East.”

 

The jab had those very students cringing at some of the looks they received. It was something that should have been explained to get the heat off Harry the previous year, but the fools had followed the herd and kept their mouths shut. Hermione and Luna were sending very vicious glares to their respective Patil twin.

 

“As I said, my door will be open for every one of you. I’ll be going by Professor Sal while I’m here and will not play favourites to those who wear my ancestor’s colours. You are all students of his school just as you are all students of the other Founders. Thank you.”

 

He nodded his head at each table and then moved to sit beside Flitwick, the two quickly striking up a conversation while most of the room stared at the man who was changing their world.

 

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.

OoOoO

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_Potions Class_

 

It seemed a typical part of the life of Harry Potter/Salazar Slytherin that his first lesson as Potions Professor would see him teaching himself. The mixed Gryffindor-Slytherin class trundled in with Hermione and Neville both grinning like lunatics while ‘Harry’ rolled his eyes. Sal was mentally cackling at the insanity of the situation.

 

“I do not like repeating myself but for this, I will,” his sharp voice cut through the low sounds of people finding their seats and getting their equipment ready. “You will call me Professor Sal and I will show _no_ favourites in this class. I have seen the memories of students across all years and know exactly how bad a teacher the man who previously stood here was.”

 

A total lie, but it would explain his knowledge of Snape’s ‘teachings.’ He sent a glare to those in both colours who reacted to his words.

 

“My classes will teach you all how to brew potions and there will be no picking and choosing who gets praise and who doesn’t. Any attempts at sabotage will result in heavy punishment up to and including being banned from my classes and letters sent to the WEA and _Practical Potioneer Journal_ detailing exactly what you’ve done. And hopeful aspiring Potioneers among you realise just how bad that would be when it comes to your careers.”

 

The students who understood the threat had paled and then straightened in their seats. Sal nodded his pleasure at them taking him seriously.

 

“Now, there will be no brewing in today’s class. Instead,” he double-clapped and the empty tables become covered with random food items. The arrogant Purebloods sneered at what they saw. “I am going to teach you how to slice, dice, mince, chop, squeeze, crush, cut, and everything else asked of you to prepare your ingredients. I will teach you to the point where owners of Apothecaries across the globe will be weeping in misery that they do not have you on their payroll. Anyone not trying, anyone thinking that these skills are somehow beneath them, will be kicked out of the class and be forced to wait until my replacement comes in.”

 

“But this is food!” Pansy Parkinson cried out in dismay.

 

“Five points to Slytherin for explaining what’s in front of you, Miss Parkinson, and ten points deducted from Slytherin for stating the obvious. The House-elves have graciously provided our equipment until I’m satisfied everyone has the skills not to waste value ingredients.”

 

The girl looked to say something more, but Sal’s cold glare shut her down.

 

“Be aware, anyone who doesn’t want to do this will return to this class utterly embarrassed by the stark difference in quality between your pathetic attempts at brewing and everyone else’s half-way decent brews using Mastery level preparation techniques. Any questions? No, good. Pick up those knives, grab a carrot, watch what I do, and behave!”

 

An image appeared above Sal’s head showing the class a bird’s eye view of his hands and table so that they could compare his movements with their own.

 

“Take your time, students. No one says that you can’t do all of this prior to starting the potion. Those of you who are nervous during the brewing process will soon learn how long each preparation takes and understand when you can squeeze it in during a quiet period of the brew. But always remember that this can all be done before putting the cauldron on the heat.”

 

And Sal proceeded to show them what Snape should have done from the very beginning. It would take time and he often had to move around the room, correct someone’s technique loud enough for the advice to be heard by all, but the students were learning, and he was doing what he loved.

 

Aside from the curious gaze of Daphne Greengrass, Sal felt as though he was home for the first time in a thousand years.

 

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OoOoO

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_That night in the Chamber_

 

Harry found an extremely bored Esmeralda curled up near the inner entrance of the Chamber while a skinny grim slept in a pile of pillows. The man in a boy’s body decided to sit against the Chamber’s wall and spend time with his beloved basilisk, spending almost an hour stroking the snake as they engaged in a hissing conversation.

 

“You’re a Parselmouth,” a groggy Sirius pointed out. Harry looked away from Esmeralda to see the man tiredly rubbing his grey eyes. There were a handful of books scattered around his nest that Harry hadn’t immediately seen, and he realised that Dobby was doing his best to keep Sirius from being bored.

 

“Yep. I spoke to a snake when I was ten but didn’t know it was a thing until last year. Draco Malfoy conjured a snake in our duelling class and I had to keep it from attacking someone else.”

 

“How? It’s a Dark talent.”

 

“No, it’s not,” he sighed, already tired of the conversation. “It’s a talent that’s been used by Dark wizards to scare people but it’s not Dark.”

 

The man didn’t look convinced, so Harry tried something different. “What about my mother? I’m a Parselmouth because she was a Parselmouth.”

 

Which was true even if Lily Evans never knew it. She couldn’t have had the Slytherin eyes and not been a Parselmouth.

 

“Who told you that?” Sirius snapped, his face morphing into that of the deranged murderer he was accused of being. “Who lied about Lily like that? There’s no way Lily would have that…”

 

“Sirius, she was Lady Slytherin,” Harry pulled himself to his feet and Esmeralda immediately wrapped herself around his shoulders in the attempt to keep him calm. The Chamber felt his emotions spike and the magic within it began to react. “She was a direct descendant of Slytherin’s firstborn! All she needed was the ring.”

 

“No, no, no,” Sirius was shaking his head and very evidently talking to himself as much as he was Harry. “There’s no way she was a Slytherin. James would never have…”

 

The former Gryffindor’s mouth snapped shut but the damage was already done. Harry’s eyes blazed with fury that so much reminded Sirius of the very woman they were talking about.

 

“James would never have got with a slimy snake in Lion’s clothing, is that it? So, you and James pranced around Hogwarts putting all the nasty snakes in their place? Arrogant bastards who only saw the world in Light and Dark!”

 

“Now just wait a bloody minute.”

 

“For a man whose Animagus form is so close to his ancestors, you’re a fucking disgrace to your family name,” Harry spat. He had no idea the words would throw Sirius back into his own harsh childhood.

 

“Screw you, Harry! You don’t know what you’re talking about. The Blacks are as twisted and as bigoted as the Death Eaters.”

 

“You’re a fool, Sirius Black. What do you know of the Blacks? Of Arcturus Black?” That the conversation had become an echo of his rant to Draco only made Harry’s anger grow. _What the hell is wrong with this generation?_

 

“Great-Grandfather?” Sirius blinked at the question, somewhat grateful that they had moved on from his blunder about James and Lily. Deep within Sirius Black where he refused to look was the question of if James really would have chased Lily if they had known of her magical heritage. “Not much. I know my parents cursed his name until he disappeared from public life.”

 

“A public life that would have ended around the time Charlus Potter died?”

 

“Well, yes, I suppose,” Sirius had never noticed the overlap. He had no interest in politics and had been too shaken up by the death of a man who had been like a father to him after the Potters took him in.

 

“You’ve never heard of the Four Kings?” Harry was sneering as though Sirius was a piece of hippogriff dung he’d stepped in and the look coming from his godson almost had Sirius in tears. “All Slytherins are evil and you don’t know a damn thing about what it truly means to be a Black and not the Pureblood bullshit of the war. Like I said, you’re an idiot.”

 

Harry stormed out of the Chamber and this time there was no frantic calling trying to keep him from leaving. Instead Sirius Orion Black cried for the broken ruin that was his relationship with his godson.

 

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OoOoO

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_10 th November 1993_

 

The other three quickly heard about Sirius’ reactions to the idea of Harry and Lily being Slytherins and quietly supported him without crowding. It was just Harry’s luck that his quick trip to the library before curfew saw him alone when Ron Weasley felt the need to open his mouth.

 

“Hey Harry,” the ginger broke through his thoughts and Harry turned to see a strange mix of glee and uneasy on his former friend’s face. The two were standing near Madam Pince’s desk and he could see the woman turn in their direction. “I know we aren’t exactly mates anymore but I wanted to thank you for getting rid of Snape.”

 

Saying the two were no longer friends barely touched the collapse of their relationship. Sal’s violent reaction to the boy’s disrespect to Luna had caused them to have running arguments in the Common Room. When Harry started avoiding the boy, Ron’s argumentative nature turned to Hermione since the Awakened Helga was now refusing to do the boy’s work for him. The three reborn Gryffindor Founders all agreed that Weasley had the smarts to be middle of the class but possessed none of the desire to do so. There had been an uneasy truce between them and Ron since the Dementors were destroyed.

 

“Do you know the sad thing, Ron?” Harry sighed, carefully leaning against the bookcase he had been browsing. “I know you don’t like all the politics of the magical world but the issues between Snape and my father, and then Snape and me could easily have been avoided.”

 

“What do you mean?” The ginger frowned, the tone already turning belligerent at the mention of politics.

 

“Snape and my father hated each other so Snape immediately hated me the moment I stepped into Hogwarts. Yet his mother was born into the Noble and Ancient House of Prince. Either my dad or I, hell even Neville or one of the others, could have helped Snape rebuild his House and given the greasy bastard the position in society he felt he deserved. He was just too much of a bastard to ask for help.”

 

“You’re telling me you’d have actually helped him?” Ron’s voice was rising, and Sal realised why the conversation was already exhausting him.

 

Just like with Malfoy from earlier in the year and Sirius in the week, he had found yet another person who ignored how society truly worked and only saw what they wanted to see. Salazar _hated_ dealing with bigoted fools. It reminded him too much of the man who had given him his childhood scars.

 

“I’m telling you that I would have been honour-bound to help House Prince be all it could have been if the man had got his head out of his arse,” he corrected, knowing Ron wasn’t hearing what he was saying. “The Princes are famed Potioneers and inventors. Snape was merely following in his family’s footsteps rather than being something special. But the man couldn’t see beyond me being a Potter.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll let you get back to your pampered life. Some of us don’t get everything we want handed to us.”

 

Ron never realised how close he came to be killed. The disillusioned Esmeralda had been hissing up a storm around Harry’s waist and was ready to strike out at the boy when he stormed off in a huff. Harry was about to turn back to the books when Madam Pince crocked her finger at him. Harry followed the woman who had taken him under her wing early in his first year. Putting aside the experience in politics Salazar’s memories gave him, Harry had learnt as much from Pince as he had from the Awakening. She took him to the private room that he had practically claimed during that learning time and the two sat in their usual chairs.

 

Irma Pince was silent as she drew her wand and Harry felt the familiar magic of silencing and basic security spells wash over them. She placed the stick away from her and waited, staring at him with her piercing gaze. He began to frown as he noticed subtle things about her features that he had ignored were now seen in a different light and his eyes widened at what he was learning.

 

“Good, you see it,” the woman everyone compared to a vulture nodded.

 

“I do. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

 

“You and my idiot nephew,” she snapped, sneering at how easy it had been to hide. The look was exactly like the former member of staff. “Subtle notice-me-not and blood glamours go a long way when no one expects anything to be hidden. Now, the reason we’re here. You are not the innocent young boy I’ve been helping.”

 

The statement was said with the same calmness as Sal’s confrontation with Flitwick and he had to wonder who else was noticing the change. “Is that a problem?”

 

“No,” Pince snorts, dark eyes briefly shining with amusement. “He’s still there inside you and I know you’ve deserved the Slytherin green long before whatever happened, happened.”

 

“You didn’t ask me here just to tell me you knew, Madam Pince,” he pointed out, giving her the level of respect he always had. Harry owed the woman for her aid and they both knew it.

 

“When my sister ran off to marry that Muggle, I was quickly thrown into a marriage to a man whose family enjoyed running around in cloaks and white masks,” she explained. Her next words were said in perfect Latin, ¬¬Thankfully after gaining an heir, the useless lump had a tragic potions accident.¬¬

 

¬¬Tragic indeed. What is it you want from me?¬¬ That he answered in Latin was the proof of him not being the same Harry she had grown to like.

 

“My nephew is a twisted man who is so much like his father and maternal grandfather that it’s not funny. He doesn’t deserve the title of Prince. The generation of inbred Neanderthals who kicked Elaine out are all dead and most people have forgotten the power and legacy my House once possessed. I have a grandson attending next year. I ask he be put under the protection of your Houses and you help him return House Prince to what it was.”

 

The woman wasn’t wanting anything Harry hadn’t just told Weasley he would have done if asked.

 

“I helped young Harry before you became what you have,” she continued. “I know it doesn’t balance out but…”

 

“Consider it done, Lady Prince.”

 

“Emma Prince,” she said, introducing her real name. “I’m no Lady. Now get out of my library before you’re caught out after curfew.”

 

Harry could only laugh and nod, slipping from the room with practised ease. Irma Pince had said something similar every evening when she acted as his teacher.

 

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OoOoO

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_13 th November 1993 – Hogwarts Library_

 

Harry looked up to see a nervous Ophelia shuffling her feet and he smiled affectionately at the girl, laying his quill to the side. He was once again in the Library for any non-Gryffindor student needing help. “And what can I do for you today, hm?”

 

“Hello, Mister Harry. I heard some of the older students talking about maturity and –”

 

“Shouldn’t you be asking someone like Luna about that?”

 

“ _Magical_ maturity!” She giggled at his over the top horrified expression. Harry chuckled and waved her into the chair next to him.

 

“And you found it a bit confusing?”

 

“A little,” she blushed. He nodded and immediately settled into his teaching mode.

 

“I’ll start from the beginning like always, okay?” The smile of thanks was all he needed. “Right, well to start with people have always been trying to measure magic, and they kept finding something very strange. Let’s say I wanted to make this quill float. Professor Flitwick teaches us the spell for that but raw magic, the magic that is everywhere around us, can do it far easier than anyone can with their own magic. But it’s very, very difficult for if someone tries to control the raw magic into doing it.”

 

She scrunched her nose up at the apparent hypocrisy. “So raw magic can do it but only if no one tries to make it do it?”

 

“Very good, and this is because raw magic is like this,” he took out his wand and conjured a mangled piece of rock that glittered with all different colours. Harry took the stone and leaned forward to let Ophelia watch it rolling between his palms. “Each colour is a magic for a different species. Goblin, human, elf, anything, and everything that can use magic takes it from the same source. But we would struggle to use goblin magic the same way goblins would struggle to use ours.”

 

“What’s worse,” he continued, his voice taking on a very serious tone. “Is that this type of magic is very poisonous for us. Our bodies can’t handle raw magic because it has all these extra bits in it.”

 

“Is that what happened with you and the Dementors?” She asked, her soft voice drenched in worry.

 

“It’s the main reason, yes,” he nodded, and the girl scowled at her friend being hurt. “Hogwarts used a lot of raw magic from her Ley Lines to get those nasty things away from us and I got caught in the blast. Now, back to the lesson.”

 

Ophelia watched as Harry continued to roll the rock in his hands, some of the colours fading from its grey surface while others seemed to multiple.

 

“When a baby is growing inside their mummy, they have her magic and raw magic working through them until they’re able to start making their own. It’s very similar to raw magic and their mother’s magic must work very hard to take away the yucky parts of the raw magic so it doesn’t hurt the baby. Some babies are born more comfortable with this magic while others have to wait until their bodies start making magic more concentrated for human use.”

 

The rock changed again as other colours vanished. The Slytherin green was growing more prominent but it was still only in patches. Sal had been horrified to learn that the theory behind magical growth and its frequencies seemed to be only for those who investigated the research. The rest of society were taught the barest levels if anything at all even though explained why some babies could produce magical effects early while others took time in making anything happen.

 

“Now, imagine trying to lift one of these books,” he said, waving a hand to indicate the library around them. “It takes a certain amount of energy to make one move and that energy is the same no matter if it’s a baby, you, or me picking it up. If you try picking up a heavy book, you’ll use as much energy as Hagrid would. But it’ll be heavier for you because you have to use a larger amount of your total strength than he would.”

 

“But Hagrid could throw it further than me,” she pointed out, getting a grin at what she thought was a flaw in his explanation.

 

“That’s right. That’s because he’s got more energy to put behind the throw. Let’s go back to Professor Flitwick’s feathers. Just like a baby or Hagrid don’t know their own strength and might use too much or too little to lift or throw things, so every student has to learn the right amount of magic to use to lift the feather.”

 

“And that’s why some don’t move but others explode?”

 

“Excellent, Ophelia,” Harry smiled, changing the rock some more to catch her attention. “Now as we continue to grow, our bodies learn to change our magic so there’s less of the other stuff in it. It’s like a watered-down potion that our bodies are making more potent as we age. This means we need less of the magic to do the same work. Our bodies are almost constantly trying to make magic that doesn’t have all the non-human stuff in it, but everyone eventually hits a point that they can’t get beyond. A point their bodies can’t make their make magic with less non-human stuff in it. And this point is different for everyone.”

 

“So, Magical Maturity is when my body is able to make magic that has less of the other stuff in it?”

 

“It’s when your body makes a big jump in how it makes magic. It might go from this,” the stone was mostly a splotchy mess and then it was almost half Slytherin green while the rest looked as chaotic in its colours as it had been in the beginning. “To this. And when it does, you’ll have more magic to use to do more things without exhausting yourself.”

 

He vanished the stone. It was as basic a teaching of the theory that he was comfortable going into considering there were actual formulae breaking down how much one ‘unit’ of magic was for each known maturity level and what that translated to for the other levels as well as in raw magic terms. To be honest, the numbers bored Sal but he had been delighted for Leda when she proved herself her mother’s daughter and came up with the theory’s foundation. That it had taken Nicolas Flamel building on her foundation to create the magical theory of the modern age showed the Ravenclaws deserved their reputation for scary intelligence.

 

They spent some time going over the rest of Ophelia’s schoolwork to get the girl’s mind away from the dense material she had been taught.

 

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OoOoO

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_14 th November 1993 – Chamber of Secrets_

 

Harry finally made himself go back down to the Chamber and found an extremely remorseful Sirius. The Snake Lord listened as his godfather explained exactly what it was like growing up in the bigoted House of Black and that he almost never saw Arcturus, never knowing the then Lord Black was close to his best friend’s father. When Harry asked how he never found out once he moved in with the Potters, the answer had him sighing.

 

“By that time, I was too blinkered in my thinking,” Sirius confessed. “I wouldn’t stay in the same room if someone mentioned the Blacks and I wanted nothing to do with the politics. The war was starting to pick up and I saw the troubles as a way of lashing out at the people who had hurt me. I wasn’t a good person, Harry. I was mad at the world and wanted everyone but us Marauders to pay for it.”

 

Which fully explained why the man lost his mind on that Halloween. Yet there was one thing that wasn’t sitting right with Harry.

 

“Who did you say cast the Fidelius?”

 

“I don’t remember,” Sirius said, waving the question away. “Probably Lily. She was brilliant with Charms.”

 

“And your plan was for everyone to think you were the Secret Keeper to keep the focus off Pettigrew?” He double-checked, thanking the goddess that he hadn’t revealed the toe-missing rat he had hidden in the Chamber.

 

“That was the plan, yeah. I thought it was a brilliant prank.”

 

“That doesn’t make sense.”

 

“Harry, I think I know more about that time than you do.”

 

“No, Sirius, I mean it doesn’t make sense about the Fidelius Charm,” Harry shook his head, trying to explain to the stubborn man what the problem was. “Whoever cast the spell should have known that wouldn’t be possible.”

 

“I don’t remember who did it,” Sirius said, waving the question away. “Probably Lily. She was brilliant with Charms.”

 

Harry froze and stared at his godfather who hadn’t realised anything was wrong. He slowly asked the question again. “Sirius, who cast the Fidelius?”

 

“I don’t remember,” Sirius said, waving the question away. “Probably Lily. She was brilliant with Charms. Why do you keep asking?”

 

Harry swore, slipping in and out of Parsel at the obvious mental manipulation. “Because the Fidelius Charm doesn’t work that way. It’s _impossible_ for someone to be thought of as a Secret Keeper if there is one. The very fact people ‘knew’ you were the Potter’s Secret Keeper means that they weren’t using a Fidelius in the first place.”

 

“What are you saying, Harry?”

 

“Who cast the Fidelius, Sirius?”

 

“I don’t remember,” the hand came up again to wave the question away. “Probably Lily. She was brilliant with Charms.”

 

“And that is the fourth time you answered that question in the exact same way,” Harry pointed out. Sirius froze, realising what he was hinting at. The grey eyes clouded only for the man to shake himself down like his Animagus form.

 

“No, it was the Fidelius, I know it was.”

 

“Spells like that don’t work that way,” Harry pushed, moving away from the question of who cast the spell before any problems could develop. Pushing too hard could mean Sirius’ mind shut down from trying to fight whatever magic was making him think Lily cast the spell. Harry only hoped that the Mind Magic wasn’t linked to the idea of using the Fidelius itself. “At best, people would consider you to have knowledge about my family being in hiding. The Fidelius doesn’t just hide something as a Secret, it keeps the fact there _is_ a Secret hidden as well. The Death Eaters would have known we were in hiding, they could _never_ have known that we were under a Fidelius if we really were.”

 

“But that means, that means…” Sirius’ voice drifted off as did his gaze and Harry quickly cast a silent Sleeping Charm on him before the Gryffindor tried fighting against the Mind Magic.

 

Harry knew what it meant. It meant someone set his family up for slaughter. That the betrayal was planned from the very beginning and had a damn good guess as to who was behind it. It was time to get out there and speak to Lady Bones about a dog.

 

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OoOoO

 

**SN: Harry’s explanation on magical maturity is a rough mixing of the physics of Work (Joules required to perform x action) and wavelengths (specifically the electromagnetic spectrum). And yes, this means I have actual calculations and levels for the characters.**

**And for the record –Did you catch it? A little forced but I couldn’t resist throwing out a wink to Who’s on First.**

 

 

 **Outtake:** A partial scene where Sebastian explains everything to Sal and Helga. It never got included and it’s too late to do so now.

 

Dumbledore doesn’t like you being connected to anything magical outside of Hogwarts. He wanted the Child of Prophecy restricted in his knowledge and contacts and the past summer at Diagon really messed his plans up. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came up with ways to keep you isolated during the summers.”

 

“Child of Prophecy?” This time it was Hermione whose eyes narrowed as she glared between Harry and Sebastian. The man in a boy’s body conjured chairs for them to sit and shrugged his shoulders. He had barely taken notice of that part of Sebastian’s Chamber rant.

 

“Something our illustrious Divination Professor gave during her interview. The previous Professor refused to tell Dumbledore anything he Saw and promptly left before the Headmaster sacked him. Dumbledore spent months looking for a genuine Seer with loose lips, running up and down the country doing interviews.”

 

“Then he’s an idiot,” Luna snapped, eyes alight with anger for her fellow Diviners. “Someone with the Sight only shares what they feel they must or with their closest.”

 

“And that’s where Trelawney comes it,” Sebastian nodded in agreement. “She’s an Oracle and gave a Prophecy during her interview. _That_ night marked Harry Potter as the One mentioned and Dumbledore has done everything he could to raise the child in such a way as to be ready for his final plan.”

 

“And that plan would be?” Hermione’s own anger was palpable and both Harry and Rowena took her hands to keep her grounded.”

 

“There was a soul shard behind the scar. I could sense it when I Sorted Harry,” Sebastian sighed, shaking himself back and forth as though shaking his head. “I believe Dumbledore is convinced that between that and a line in the Prophecy, you have to die for Riddle to be finally defeated.”

 

There was utter silence at the announcement that was broken by Harry’s loud laughter. The two girls looked at him with eyebrows raised and he could barely get the words out, such was his shock at what such a supposedly smart wizard was thinking.

 

“That’s stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. That’s _not_ how Soul Magic works!”


End file.
